


Mikey

by Kayteebr



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Aftermath, Death, F/M, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Multi, Sex, Smut, Substance Abuse, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-10-17 08:45:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 38
Words: 28,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayteebr/pseuds/Kayteebr
Summary: It all goes back to Mikey, it always did and it always will.Gerard had a bit of a problem with making friends. It didn't bother him, why should it? He had Mikey, that's all he needed.Frank could be a social butterfly when he wanted to, but he had his secrets. Only Mikey knew who he truly was, and he planned on keeping it that way.But Mikey didn't want to live anymore.





	1. Another Six Months, I'll Be Unknown

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new work! I have an idea of where this is going, but things could change in time. I'm always open to opinions and suggestions.
> 
> Thanks!

When he thought about it subjectively, it seemed so poetic; though he doubted that his mom and brother would see it that way. 

He pondered this as he lay there, choking on his short gasps in, and the shaky breaths out. He wasn’t in a shocking amount of pain, just an overwhelming sense of uncomfortableness in his chest that he couldn’t seem to ignore. 

His eyes were still open, out of focus but gazing forward ever more on nothing in particular. The edges of his vision seemed to blur into an ominous grey static that any stable person would consider cause for concern, but in Mikey’s mind, it was the beginning of the end, and with that he was complacent.  
Somewhere deep inside his unconscious was a feeling of regret, of guilt and shame, but the overwhelming sense of peace he hoped would envelop him soon outweighed everything else. Mikey felt bad, sure, but not bad enough to keep him from swallowing handfuls of pills, the contents of which were currently eating a hole in his stomach.  
Mikey knew exactly what to take, and how to take it – 30 oxycodone, sourced from his mother’s 'back pain' collection, and the entirety of a bottle of Xanax, all washed down with alcohol for good measure. He knew that if for some reason he were to survive, his liver would be shit, likely his stomach and kidneys, too. It was that fact that kept the small amount of nagging panic in his mind at bay.  
Just barely could Mikey make out the sensation of liquid making its way up his esophagus, though he was too far gone to care. Lain haphazardly on his side, he felt the warm iron taste of blood flow into his mouth and out of his parted lips into a small pool on the coverlet he was spread out on.  
His vision continued to dull farther until it was nothing but black in front of him, welcoming him with the most open of arms.  
The tingling sensation in his gut began to be replaced by emptiness, and his appendages seemed to no longer exist.  
It must have taken only minutes, but to Mikey it still wasn’t quite quick enough. As his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body seemed to lift off the mattress and into the air, his head now light as a feather, the words on Mikey’s lips that would never be formed, swirled delicately in his head.  
_‘I'm Sorry.’_


	2. A Sail in a Storm

Gerard hated driving, especially in the winter.   
Today was just one of those days that would make even the most enthusiastic of people depressed, and Gerard was feeling it.   
It had been grey the entirety of the day, with clouds littering the sky and frozen rain falling, covering the streets in slush. It was dark now, cold and windy, and Gerard found himself becoming increasingly anxious, white knuckles gripping the wheel.   
It wasn’t until he was 20 that he had finally been coerced to get his license, and even then it was only to appease his brother. Mikey insisted that he wouldn’t be driving his older brother around if he could help it, and if there was one person that could convince Gerard of anything, it was Mikey.   
It was bizarre having his 16 year old brother, who had just learned to drive himself, teach him the basics, but Gerard would be forever grateful for his patience. Still, Gerard was a nervous wreck in the car, even three years later. It had only been a few months, but Gerard already missed college and the ease of taking the bus everywhere. But then again, he had a job and a brother who was immensely proud of him, and to Gerard that was enough.  
He pulled onto his street, a sigh of relief escaping his lips; he had been daydreaming about his warm bed since the moment he crawled out of it.   
He turned the corner only to be met with flashing red and blue lights instead of the darkly lit street lamps that usually guided the way home.   
He furrowed his brow in concentration, ready to carefully drive around them, not once considering they could be outside of his house. Ever so slowly, he pulled closer to his driveway, a lump in his throat getting larger with every rotation of the tires. It was only when he caught a glimpse of his mother, sat on the front step, head in her hands and a blanket around her back, the old lady from next door clutching her shoulders, did the gears click in Gerard’s head that something was terribly wrong.  
‘What the fuck…” he muttered to himself as he pulled up out front and threw himself out the door, not bothering to shut the car off.   
He ran to his weeping mother, eyes darting from the open door of their house, to the ambulance out front. “Mom!” He shouted, running through the wet grass, losing a shoe in the process.   
He reached her in seconds, grabbing her hand in his, kneeling down and inspecting her for injuries. She looked at him, teary eyed, and Gerard couldn’t place the expression she was giving him. She looked broken, truly shattered, and the pit in Gerard’s stomach only grew.   
“What happened? Are you hurt?” He asked, trying to run through every possible scenario in his head. She remained silent, the kind lady from the house next door rubbing his mothers’ arm soothingly.   
“Mom?” He asked quieter this time, more tentatively, unsure of the chaos unfolding around him. There was a pounding, a kind of ringing in Gerard’s ears, drowning out the sound of more sirens in the distance.   
He couldn’t make sense of the situation; the only emotion he could make out was the sinking one in his gut. He stared at his mother, unblinkingly, for moments, trying to read her mind.   
She couldn’t bring herself to speak, he knew this, and he tried so hard not to make her – but he needed to know. Gerard needed to know now.   
“Where’s Mikey, mom?” he asked quieter still, almost a whisper. The twinkling in her eyes that brimmed with tears finally overflowed, and she shrieked, throwing herself into the arms of the timeworn woman beside her.   
Gerard stood slowly, his face contorted into something sick; he swallowed the bile that had rose to the back of his throat before stepping unartfully over his sobbing mother and through the doorway.   
“Mikey?!” He yelled, rushing up the stairs. He heard voices coming from the second floor, voices that he didn’t recognize, and it pushed his legs faster. “Mikey!” He screamed, hoping for any answer at this point.   
At the top of the stairs, he saw Mikey’s bedroom door wide open, something that normally would never occur. Mikey valued his privacy, and the two locks on his door proved it so.   
Gerard’s brain told him to stop going before he reached Mikey’s room, some rationality shining through his madness, but his feet seemed to move of their own accord. He stepped carefully into the threshold, arms shaking beside him.   
“Mikey?” He asked quietly, but Mikey didn’t answer. Instead, a man in a blue uniform stepped through the doorway, blocking Gerard’s view of the room, and put his hands firmly on Gerard’s shoulders. “Son, I need you to go back outside please.”   
Gerard shook his head, trying to push his way into his brothers’ room, weak knees pushing themselves forward into the man that was infinitely stronger than him, fighting with everything he had just to get to get in. “Mikey, no…” He started to sob, legs finally buckling without Gerard’s approval, and he fell to the floor.


	3. A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

How Gerard awoke on the couch in his living room, he couldn’t remember.   
He opened his eyes so innocently, oblivious of the turmoil that had befallen him hours prior. His ignorant bliss was short lived, however, as he began to remember the reality of his life now. He was an only child, Mikey was gone.  
No one had explicitly told him that Mikey was dead yet, but he knew. Gerard always knew. He checked the time on his phone – 2:27AM, and decided that any type of restful sleep would be unlikely at this point.   
He swung his legs over the edge of the couch, ankles cracking with protest as he stood.   
“Mom?” He called into the darkness, but received no response. A peek through the curtains confirmed that her car wasn’t in the driveway, she wasn’t here.   
Gerard sighed before making his way downstairs into the basement. He stood in the doorway for a few seconds, staring at his bed, his TV, his stack of comic books in the corner; all the things that he and Mikey used to share.   
Gerard was too tired to cry any longer, he didn’t remember passing out on the couch, but he did remember crying for hours while the EMT’s took Mikey away. He walked wearily to the bed, turning the TV on in the process.   
The glow illuminated the room, so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. Gerard was fully prepared to throw himself on the bed and stare at the television until the pain went away, but his thoughts were interrupted by the three envelopes sitting neatly on his blanket. One labeled ‘Alicia’, one labeled ‘Frank’ and one, of course, read ‘Gerard’.   
“Fuck, Mikey…” was all Gerard could muster out before he was trembling with expectation.   
He sat on the bed and held his envelope carefully, studying it, taking note of Mikey’s shaky handwriting on the front. It took nearly fifteen minutes of contemplating its’ contents before Gerard had the courage to open it and read. 

“Gee,  
Words can’t express what an incredible brother you’ve been to me. Never, ever, think this was your fault. This was my choice, my decision, and you were the one who kept me hanging on as long as I did. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would have killed myself sometime in High School; honestly, this was a long time coming. I know I promised you I wouldn’t leave you, I know, and I’m so fucking sorry. I will always feel bad for leaving you, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. The thought of having to live another day like this is hell, and I can’t even begin to imagine living another 50 years. Everything in my room is yours, we shared everything anyway. I want you to have it all. Sell it, keep it, whatever you prefer, but it’s yours now. Under my bed is a wooden box, no one knows about it, it actually is the only possession I’ve ever kept from you, but it has a few thousand dollars in it. I had been saving it for college but, well, you know how that turned out. That is the only thing I ask you to hold on to, please. Save it until the time is right, use it for something special. Please, move past this. Live your life, make art, fall in love, have a family, grow old. Please, be happy. I love you so much, and I will always, always be your brother. I will always be with you. 

Love,   
Mikey  
P.s., I knew I could trust you to get the other letters to Frank and Alicia. I hope you don’t mind. Keep an eye on Frank. He needs someone right now, and you can give him something I couldn’t. I know you don’t really know him, but please, take care of each other – for me. “

Gerard had cried all he could cry, and with nothing left to do, he pulled out his phone, thoughtlessly searching through the contacts. He didn’t know why, but he had to do this now.   
He found Frank’s contact and clicked on it, the fact that he had his number in his phone a credit of Mikey constantly forgetting to charge his phone and texting Gerard from Franks’ when he was too drunk to drive home. He smiled at the memory, and at Mikey’s forgetfulness, but his thoughts were interrupted by a very groggy ‘hello?’ from the other line.   
Gerard overlooked the fact that it was the middle of the night and that normal people would be sleeping.   
“Uh, shit, sorry I didn’t realize the time…” He mumbled into the receiver. “Who is this?” the person on the other line asked, understandably annoyed. “It’s, uh, Gerard…is this Frank?” He asked nervously. There was a pause, followed by the sound of shuffling on the line.   
“Yeah, this is Frank…Gerard, Mikey’s brother?” Frank probed. “Yeah…listen, can you come over? It’s important.” Gerard tried to get right to the point without having to actually tell Mikey’s best friend that he was dead over the phone.   
“It’s the middle of the night, Gerard. Is Mikey drunk?” He asked, irritated. Gerard let the silence linger, trying to come up with the words that he never wanted to speak.   
“No, Frank…” Gerard was at a loss, what could he say without eliciting a thousand questions that he couldn’t answer? “What’s going on?” Frank asked with a twinge of nervousness in his voice now. “I have something for you.” Was all Gerard could say without breaking back down into a sobbing mess.   
“Can’t it wait until morning?” Frank grumbled back. “No...” Gerard sighed quietly; contemplating the millions of different ways today could have played out, all of them ending with Mikey alive. Frank could hear the distress in Gerard’s voice, and confusion aside, Frank jumped out of bed and started pulling on his shoes.   
“What are you talking about, Gerard? What’s going on?” Frank questioned still, but Gerard could hear movement in the background, and the sound of a door shutting. Frank was coming, and that was all that mattered.   
“Just please, get here soon.” He pleaded, ready to hang up before Frank could ask any more questions, but to his surprise, he didn’t. “Ok. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Frank said, and the line went dead.


	4. Who Will Bring Me Flowers' When It's Over

Eight minutes and twenty two seconds is how long it took Frank to get there. Gerard knew, because he counted.  
From the moment he hung up the phone, to the moment he heard Frank’s car pull up out front. Gerard sat on the couch, in the dark, and counted the seconds. The choice was an easy one, either agonize over how to tell Frank that Mikey had killed himself, or count the seconds until he got there.   
Gerard liked counting, it was constant and even, and when his life was unpredictable and disorderly, Gerard would count his breaths and remember that he was still living. It’s part of the reason he went to school for accounting, though he can’t say he very much enjoyed being graded on his calming technique.   
It didn’t work this time, though. Nothing could still the ache in Gerard’s chest.   
Frank knocked on the door, but Gerard didn’t move from his muddle on the couch. Instead, he yelled ‘it’s open’ to Frank, and sat back on the cushion, taking note of the spin and click of the doorknob, the creak of the door, and the scuffling of Frank’s feet inside where he stood in front of him.   
“Why are you sitting in the dark?” Frank questioned with a smirk that Gerard could barely make out in the blackness of the room. He didn’t know how to answer, so he decided not to. Frank cleared his throat, confused, and looked around the empty house.   
“Mikey upstairs?” Frank asked, motioning towards the stairs. “No.” Gerard croaked out. Frank shifted on his feet, clearly agitated and likely sleep deprived.   
“Alright.” Frank snapped, exasperated. “What is going on, Gerard? It’s fucking 3:00AM, where is Mikey? What’s wrong? Is he drunk? High? He run away? What?!” The air was thick with tension, and Gerard let it loiter before he couldn’t take it anymore. He sobbed, quietly, his head in his hands and slouching forward.   
“Shit…” Frank muttered, before kneeling in front of Gerard. “I…didn’t mean it like that.” Frank sighed, gently brushing his hand over Gerard’s arm. Gerard could feel Frank’s fingers shaking with worry. Before he could stop himself, Gerard was lunging forward at Frank, clutching on to him with every little bit of strength he had left in him.   
“I’m so sorry, Frank…I’m so fucking sorry.” He cried into Frank’s jacket, trembling. Frank hesitated at first, but returned Gerard’s embrace eventually, hugging him tight, terrified of what was happening.   
“Please tell me what’s going on…” Frank whispered through shaky breaths. It took Gerard a moment to gather the words, but when he did he bawled them out. “He’s fucking gone, Frank. He killed himself.”   
Frank immediately pushed Gerard away from him, an air of shock on his face visible even in the darkness. He didn’t mean to push Gerard away, he just couldn’t control himself. Gerard looked hurt, but Frank couldn’t tell if it was because he had shoved him away or the fact that Mikey was dead. Perhaps both.   
“What?” He asked, but it came out more like a shriek. Gerard just stared at him through blood shot eyes, and nodded his head.   
“He left you this.” Gerard sniffled, and held out the envelope addressed to Frank. He had considered reading it, but he couldn’t bring himself to read Mikey’s last words to Frank. They weren’t for his eyes, and he fought the curiosity at what was going through his brothers’ head at the time. Frank took the envelope tentatively, sitting carefully next to Gerard on the couch.   
“Can I?” Frank gestured to the table lamp beside him, and Gerard nodded, squinting his eyes when the light flicked on. Frank swallowed hard, unsteady hands pulling the handwritten page from the envelope. Frank scanned the page for a few minutes, reading quickly, before wiping his eyes with his jacket sleeve when he was finished.   
“How?” Frank eventually asked, breaking the silence. “Pills.” Gerard answered simply. Frank nodded, and they sat in silence again, a million thoughts racing through both of their heads.   
Minutes passed by of both men staring into space, every once and a while whimpering as they came down from crying. Frank chanced a glance at Gerard, who turned to him after a few seconds. His face was red, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and the black bags under his eyes looked like he hadn’t slept for days.   
“You look exhausted.” Frank said, lips pursed and cocked to the side. “I am.” Gerard replied with a groan, shuddering before shifting on the couch.   
“You need to sleep. Come on.” Frank stood and placed a hand in front of Gerard. Gerard didn’t protest, he took Frank’s hand in his and allowed himself to be pulled up off of the couch and through the house. Frank led him to the basement and into Gerard’s room.   
He looked at his bed longingly, but couldn’t bring himself to lie in it.   
There were too many memories, too many angry thoughts about what he could have done to stop this. He and Mikey had spent their entire lives in this house, so many years playing videogames in this basement, so many sleepless nights just talking in the dark, so many summer days that their mother begged them to go outside that they instead spent curled up in here reading comic books together.   
“I can’t.” He mumbled, rocking back on his heels. Frank looked at him questioningly, eyebrows furrowed.   
“You look like you’re about to pass out, Gerard, you have to.” Frank replied sympathetically, brushing his fingers on Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard sighed and pulled the blankets back before crawling in and nestling himself in the fabric. Frank cocked a smile at him and put his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do now.   
“I, uh, I’ll call you tomorrow morning, ok?” Frank said, getting ready to head for the door.   
“Wait, Frank…” Gerard said, sitting up. Frank turned around and raised his eyebrows.   
“Hm?” He questioned. “Mom’s gone…I don’t know where…” Gerard trailed on. “I just…I can’t” He didn’t know how to finish, but Frank seemed to understand. He smirked at Gerard, and pulled his coat off before throwing it on the ground next to the door.   
“I’ll stay.”


	5. Where Did You Go

Gerard woke up sweating, the blankets having been kicked off and onto the floor at the foot of his bed sometime during the night.   
There was light shining in the small basement window, half covered by dirt and grass. It was daytime, however, that much was unmistakable.   
He rested there for a few minutes, fantasizing that everything was normal. It was a Saturday, and with his eyes closed, Gerard imagined that Mikey was upstairs in his bed, passed out from a night of partying. He would have to wake him up soon, like he always did on Saturday mornings.   
He would bang on the door and yell his brothers’ name in a sing-song voice, just to annoy and exacerbate his hangover. Mikey would open the door with half-lidded eyes, an aggravated expression on his face. Gerard would laugh, and make himself comfortable on Mikey’s bed, turning on the TV and ignoring his brothers’ pleas for quiet.   
Eventually, after getting some coffee in him, Mikey would recuperate and the two would spend the morning bullshitting, watching TV or playing games, and generally wasting the day away. It had always been this way, and Gerard wondered what he would ever do without Mikey.   
He doubted he would be able to survive alone for long.   
Gerard groaned and rolled over onto his side and placed his feet on the carpet. The lump of blankets on the floor where Frank had slept was empty, and Gerard assumed he had left. He didn’t want to get up, but the footsteps upstairs likely meant his mom was back, and Gerard knew she would need him as much as he needed her.   
Gerard stripped off the jeans that he still had on from yesterday and changed his boxers and t-shirt before trudging up the stairs. “Ma?” He called into the kitchen, without really looking. “You’re up.” The voice that answered was definitely not his mothers.   
“Frank?” Gerard questioned, walking farther into the room. “Yep. Still me.” Gerard walked in to see Frank standing in front of the counter, a cup of coffee in his right hand, cigarette in his mouth and something sizzling on the stove.   
“Where’s my mom?” Gerard asked curiously. Frank just shrugged and turned back to the stove. “I thought you might be hungry, though. I’m starving.” Frank said through pursed lips.   
“What the fuck?” Gerard griped, mostly to himself, sitting at the kitchen table lazily and putting his head down on his arms. “Where the fuck is she?” He groaned. Frank just gave him a sympathetic look before opening cabinet after cabinet in search of something.   
Gerard watched him curiously, laughing slightly. “Well don’t just laugh at me. Where are the plates?” Frank pestered, searching drawers. “Top right cabinet.” Gerard giggled. “Forks?” Frank asked, turning around and placing the plates down roughly in front of a smirking Gerard. “In front of you, drawer under the sink.” Frank mumbled something under his breath with a leer on his face at Gerard’s response.   
Frank brought the pan over, placing two pancakes on Gerard’s plate. In the fridge, Frank grabbed the butter and syrup and brought it over to Gerard before preparing himself a plate. Gerard stared at it for a moment, already feeling sick to his stomach. He was hungry, sure, but he just couldn’t eat.   
Frank started eating, but noticed when Gerard had yet to bite into his. His face fell immediately. “You don’t like pancakes.” Frank said. “What? No, no, I do.” Gerard replied. “You didn’t have to do this, Frank.” Gerard smiled at him.   
“I wanted to. Now eat, you’re going to get a headache if you don’t.” Frank teased, shoving a forkful into his own mouth. “Ok, Mom.” Gerard laughed.


	6. You Know You're Right

Regardless of Frank’s pushing, Gerard was still only able to eat a few bites of his breakfast before he felt sick to his stomach again. The two were now sitting in the living room watching the Price is Right, uncomfortably I might add.  
Frank couldn’t get situated in his seat, feeling like he was intruding in his best friend’s brother’s house. Frank used to call this Mikey’s house, and calling it anything else just felt weird on his tongue. Despite that, Frank never spent much time in the living room.  
Usually Frank spent his time here in Mikey’s room passed out, or in the bathroom across from Mikey’s room nursing a hangover.  
Frank and Mikey had been friends since their freshman year of High School, Mikey being the outgoing bank geek type – opposite his brother, and Frank being the punk kid who never bothered to talk to anyone. For reasons unknown, the two formed a bond and they were each other’s rock throughout High School hell.  
They had planned to go to the same college, but Mikey didn’t make the cut. He said he wasn’t upset, but Frank knew he really was. His mother convinced him to enroll in the community college, and Mikey tried hard to keep up appearances, but only Frank knew he was failing out.  
Frank was in his sophomore year of college now, and he had adjusted fairly well. He hadn’t had as much time for Mikey recently; with what time he wasn’t spending on schoolwork he was spending on partying in the dorms.  
Fuck, Frank couldn’t help but think it was his fault that Mikey had done this. What if he had been around more often? Frank only saw Mikey last weekend, but still, he couldn’t help but feel partly responsible. Frank was pulled from his thoughts when Gerard cleared his throat, looking at Frank as though he wanted to say something.  
“What?” Frank asked, a little too harshly than he had intended, still wrapped up in his internal anger. “Nothing, nothing.” Gerard defended nervously. “Just, uh…you don’t have to stay here.” Gerard was fidgeting his fingers in his lap, his eyes averting Frank’s. Gerard could handle himself, and although he enjoyed Frank’s presence, he couldn’t help but feel like he was a burden.  
“I can go if you want; I just didn’t want you to be alone. I don’t want to be responsible for another suicide because I wasn’t around to do something about it.” Frank stood from his seat when he was finished; not realizing exactly what he had said until after he said it and Gerard’s face went pale. He really, really should not have said that. Fuck, what was Frank thinking? Foot in mouth, foot in mouth!  
“What?” Gerard questioned, jumping up from his seat to stand in front of Frank. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Gerard asked with a scowl. Frank’s head spun to look directly into Gerard’s eyes.  
“Jesus Christ, Gerard, nothing. Just…feeling guilty is all.” Frank stumbled over his words, his defense mechanism starting to build, he knew he had slipped up, but he sure wasn’t going to let Gerard know that.  
“You think I need you to fucking babysit me?” Gerard questioned, still, making Frank snap. “No, I thought you might like the company seeing as you don’t have any friends of your own!” Frank started to yell, surprising even himself. It was true, though, Frank never saw anyone in the basement but Gerard.  
“Fuck you, Frank! You think I want you here? You’re a constant reminder of Mikey! Sitting there, acting like you give a shit!” Gerard started to yell back, unaware of where this rage was even coming from. Frank backed up away from Gerard, feeling slightly intimidated by the taller man. Gerard might have been the quiet type, but when he started to yell he was goddamn scary.  
Frank shook his head and took a deep breath before turning around and grabbing his phone and jacket. He silently pushed passed Gerard, who was still standing motionless, face glowering. He didn’t bother turning around to look at Gerard as he opened the door and walked out into the cold, making a b-line straight for his car before he could think better and turn around.  
Behind the door, Gerard fell onto the floor, for what must be the tenth time in 24 hours, a crying mess as he tried to call his mother’s cell phone for the 19th time, according to his call history. He heard the dial tone through his sobs followed by the sound of her voice telling him to leave a message.  
She hadn’t answered, Gerard wondered if she would ever answer.


	7. The Ashes of the Broken

“So you just left?” James asked, lying sideways on his bunk across from Frank.   
“Well, yeah. What was I supposed to do? He flipped out on me.” Frank asked, sighing as he lay down on his back.   
“I don’t know, man. I’m sorry, though. I didn’t really know the kid, but he seemed cool.” James shrugged, unsure of what to say.   
“Thanks.” Frank muttered, pulling the letter back out of his pocket. “I just wish he had told me these things in person, instead of like this.” Frank continued, unfolding and refolding the letter thoughtlessly.   
“What do you mean?” James questioned, furrowing his brow. Frank exhaled and stretched his arm, the letter extended towards James where he tentatively took hold it. 

 

Frank,

I’m so, so sorry. God I’m going to miss you so much. I never had any real friends until I met you. You have been the best friend I could ask for. Nothing you did or didn’t do caused this, don’t ever blame yourself. I’m just tired, you know? Tired of everything, tired of pretending to be OK. Some of my happiest times were hanging out with you, but it isn’t enough. I promise I never told anyone your secret, but I don’t think that it’s something you need to keep from anyone. You are perfect the way you are. Talk to Gee, take care of each other. He doesn’t have many friends, and I think he could give you some good advice. He’s been through it all. I hope you have fun in college without having to worry about me, I hope you get a great job when you graduate. Keep playing music, I’m sorry we never got to put that band together. I think we would have made an awesome team. I’ll miss you, but I’ll always be thinking about you, wherever I am. Thank you for everything, Frank. 

Love,   
Mikey

“Jesus Christ, man. Shit’s deep.” James said – he always did have a way with words. Frank just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks.” He grumbled, his friends comfort not really helpful, but appreciated nonetheless.   
“What’s this big secret he’s talking about?” James asked, putting the letter back on Frank’s side table. “None of your business, shitdick.” Frank said, rolling over onto his side, ignoring the shrug from his friend.   
“Whatever, man. I’m here if you need me.” James said before standing from his bunk and making his way to the door. “Just know that I wouldn’t judge you.” He said before walking into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.


	8. And if You Die, I Want to Die With You

Four days passed that Gerard barely left his bed.   
He didn’t eat, he didn’t shower, he barely slept. The only thing he could manage was bringing the bottles of vodka he had stashed under his bed to his mouth.   
He had called into work and told them he wouldn’t be coming in on Monday, but he forgot to call yesterday, and the alcohol made sure he didn’t care enough to call today. He had accepted the fact that he probably didn’t have a job anymore, his first corporate job out of college. That would look wonderful on his resume.   
Oh well, he didn’t really like being an accountant anyway. Sure, Gerard liked to count, but apparently only when he was counting for himself; counting for other people was just plain tedious.   
Gerard texted Alicia from Mikey’s phone telling her what happened and that there was a letter for her in the mailbox. Sure, Gerard felt a little guilty for telling her this way, and for leaving Mikey’s handwritten note in the cold, damp mailbox for his girlfriend to find, but he couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. Mikey and Alicia had only been dating for a few weeks, and honestly, Gerard didn’t think she would be too upset bearing in mind how many screaming matches between them Gerard walked in on.  
His mom still hadn’t come home and he’d given up trying to reach her two days ago. Her phone was disconnected now, as was his, which means she either neglected the bill or shut them off willingly. He presumed she would come back when she was ready. Or perhaps she would never come back.   
Gerard had been abandoned, he reckoned. He would have cared, he should have cared, had he not been so incredibly numb.   
The hunger pains he felt in his stomach a few days ago were long gone, replaced by a disorienting emptiness that he was attempting to fill with liquor. His extremities felt weak from lying in the same position for so long, his eyes burning from staring at the television for hours on end. He didn’t care anymore.   
Gerard was content with dying here, like this, of starvation, sorrow and alcohol poisoning. He had been left behind by everyone that he loved and he had nothing remaining but the callous reminder of Mikey in the note Gerard held close to his heart through the night. The only thing preventing him from grabbing the gun his mother kept in her drawer and blowing his brains out was the thought of Mikey scolding him in the afterlife.   
Gerard imagined that if he died of starvation though, well, Mikey couldn’t blame that on him. 

Frank hadn’t been faring much better the past few days. He had made it to a handful of classes, but only the ones that were completely necessary.   
Even then, he didn’t pay attention. He couldn’t tell you what the lecture in his European History class had been about this afternoon; he just hoped that his subconscious soaked up some of the information and would present itself come finals.   
Frank had read and re-read Mikey’s letter at least a hundred times, mulling over what to do with himself now. Frank guessed that Gerard would call or text once funeral arrangements were made, perhaps then Frank could begin to move on and put this whole disaster behind him, but he hadn’t heard anything from Gerard since Saturday.  
He couldn’t help but feel badly about how he left him that day. Frank knew he had gone too far, and Gerard didn’t need to be pushed. If Frank was feeling like shit, he could only imagine how Gerard was feeling.   
He wondered if his mom ever came back home. Mikey never liked to talk about her much, but he had mentioned that when their father walked out years ago, she had disappeared for weeks, leaving him and Gerard with their aunt. She wasn’t a bad mother, per se, just not the most consistent.   
Frank didn’t know why, but he was concerned for Gerard, and he knew that feeling was part of the reason couldn’t focus.   
Begrudgingly, he pulled out his phone and dialed Gerard’s number; he could always make up an excuse for why he was calling. He needed to know when Mikey’s service would be, yeah that would work, it wasn’t even a lie.  
Hearing from Gerard would put his mind at ease and he needed information anyway, but there was nothing on the other line, no dial tone, only the answering service that told him ‘this number is unavailable’. Frank was worried, he couldn’t deny it, and before he could talk himself out of it, he was slipping on his sneakers and throwing a hoodie over the t-shirt he had been wearing for three days straight.


	9. The Dreams in Which I'm Dying are the Best I've Ever Had

Gerard was half passed out, his consciousness fading when he heard banging coming from upstairs. He didn’t know what time of day, or night, for that matter it was. His brain was short-circuiting at the moment, offline and unplugged.  
All of the lights were out in the house, except for the glow of his TV, and Gerard assumed in his drunken state that if someone was breaking into his house, they had tripped in the darkness.  
Secretly, Gerard may have wished that a robbery might turn into a murder. Maybe a masked man would come down into the basement looking for a safe or other valuables and find a greasy, drunk Gerard telling him to fuck off instead. Perhaps that would piss said criminal off, and he’d wind up shooting Gerard point blank in the chest. Yeah, Gerard thought sounded agreeable.  
Gerard was just about out, hallucinating of his demise when Frank snatched the spare key that Mikey had shown him and let himself inside. The house was entirely dark, the dishes from breakfast on Saturday still sitting on the table in the kitchen, untouched. Frank dumped them into the sink, louder than he had meant to, not knowing if Gerard was downstairs sleeping.  
Frank had hammered on the door for a good ten minutes before inviting himself in, so he assumed Gerard probably was either ignoring him or asleep; his car was out front so he knew he was here somewhere. Frank didn’t feel good about just waltzing in, but then again he didn’t feel good in general, so what was one more reason to feel shitty?  
“Gerard?” Frank muttered as he walked towards the basement door. There was no response, but Frank was pretty sure he could make out the muffled sound of either music or the television. Creeping down the stairs, Frank felt his heart pounding unsteadily in his chest. The last thing he wanted was to walk in on Gerard dead, or worse, naked.  
“Gerard?” Frank called, but again, there was no response. He pushed the door open and walked towards the bed, a lump of blankets and possibly a person underneath them. “Gerard?” Frank said a bit louder, placing his hands on the blankets to feel for a body below them.  
Gerard groaned and swatted poorly at Frank from his place curled in the fetal position. “Gerard, get up.” He said, pulling the blankets down slightly. Gerard was clothed, thank god.  
“Fuck off.” Gerard slurred, clutching a nearly empty bottle closer to his chest.  
“You’re drunk.” Frank shook his head. “Fuck, Gerard, get up.” Frank pushed Gerard’s shoulders forward, making him grumble in protest.  
“Fuck off, Mikey.” Gerard muttered into the pillow, unaware of seemingly anything at all. Frank felt the blood drain from his face and pool in his feet at the error.  
“Come on, I need you to get up. Ok?” Frank spoke more considerately this time, the guilt and grief starting to clear through the exhaustion clouding his mind.  
“Don’t wanna.” Gerard uttered, still not moving. Frank huffed out a sigh, knowing that the only way to have a conversation with Gerard would be to wait until he sobered up.  
“Alright, you win.” He groaned, and sat down on the chair across the room, grabbing both the bottle from Gerard’s arms and the remote off of the floor on his way.


	10. Misery Loves Company

The small amount that was left in the bottle Frank had taken from Gerard he had polished off about two hours ago, since that time he had been flipping channels and trying not to doze off as he waited for Gerard to become conscious.   
It was past midnight at this point, and Gerard had barely stirred aside from the occasional blowing snort that reminded Frank so much of how Mikey snored when he was drunk.   
Frank was starting to nod off again when he heard coughing coming from the bed. Gerard was groaning, and Frank knew that sound. There was nothing Frank could do as he watched Gerard jump from his bed, shoot him a confused scowl, and subsequently run to the bathroom to vomit.   
Frank rubbed his eyes, trying not to listen in to the ungodly sounds Gerard was making in the bathroom, and got up to stretch. He cracked his neck, his fingers and his back, and tried to occupy himself, thinking of what he was going to say to explain why he was watching Gerard sleep when he came back.   
Frank puttered over to Gerard’s desk, strewn with papers and unsystematically organized pencils. There had to be over a dozen different sketches. Some of them were of animals, a few of people – no one Frank recognized – and some were obviously just pulled from Gerard’s imagination.   
They were remarkably realistic; detailed. Frank ran a light finger over a sketch that seemed to be incomplete; he couldn’t make out what it was going to be yet, but he knew it would be remarkable when finished. He didn’t hear the bathroom door open and Gerard walk back into the room as he fixated on the pictures and he jumped beside himself when Gerard petulantly cleared his throat.   
“The fuck are you doing, Frank.” Gerard interrogated, though it clearly wasn’t a question. Frank thought about that for a moment, stepping away from the desk before turning towards Gerard and deciding to ignore the question completely.  
“You could be selling these.” Frank said, trying to pay a compliment, but it sounded to Gerard more like a criticism of his existing career choice. “Artists don’t make shit.” Gerard replied simply, sitting on his bed and pushing a few greasy, black strands of hair behind his ear before crossing his legs.   
Gerard’s head was killing him, and he fleetingly wondered what the fuck he was thinking by drinking so much.   
“Well, they’re really good.” Frank replied, still attempting to keep the conversation light. But, Gerard apparently wasn’t having it, still probing for answers with a raised eyebrow and a grimace adorning his lips.  
“How did you get in here and why were you watching me sleep?” Gerard asked, rubbing his temples. He wanted to yell at Frank to fuck off, to get out and never talk to him again, but he couldn’t even think straight let alone raise his voice without feeling like his head was going to implode.   
Frank stuttered at that, running through possible answers in his head before settling on just telling the truth. “Spare key under the mat. I hadn’t heard from you, I was worried. Plus I want to know about the arrangements for…you know.”   
Gerard rolled his eyes before wincing in pain at the action. “What arrangements?” He replied sardonically. “There are none. Mikey was an organ donor, they took his body somewhere, removed what they needed and cremated what was left. I can pick it up on Friday.”   
Frank’s stomach twisted at the way Gerard talked about his deceased brother, as if he was being harvested like an animal. Frank could tell it physically hurt Gerard to think of Mikey that way too, however, his fingers digging roughly into his leg as he spoke.   
“Are you going to have any type of service for him?” Frank asked, leaning against the wall now.   
Gerard shook his head, a bit of the barrier he had built around himself starting to break away and whether it was because he was too exhausted to fight, or if Frank was actually making progress, he wasn’t sure. “What’s the point?” Gerard said. “Our dad walked out when he was 7, our Aunt is in Seattle, and who knows where Mom is. The only people who would bother to be there are you and I, you know this.”   
Frank shook his head in disagreement. “That’s not true; Mikey had a lot of friends in High School. Granted, they weren’t good friends, but he was outgoing, people liked him. What about Alicia?” He asked. Gerard shrugged in response.   
“I don’t know, Frank. How do I even plan a service?” Gerard sighed, upset. “Mikey deserves one, but I don’t know what I’m doing. I guess I just hoped Mom would show up and do it.”   
Frank said nothing in reply, but he did make his way over to the bed and tentatively sat next to Gerard. Gerard didn’t protest, so Frank turned towards him and upturned the side of his mouth, a smile, though slight. “I’ll help you.” He said. Gerard stared at the floor for a few moments before nodding in agreement.   
“Listen, Gerard. I’m really sorry for the other day.” Frank started before crossing and uncrossing his legs awkwardly. He was tense, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. Frank had never had much interaction with Gerard before Mikey died, so he shouldn’t feel the need to mend a relationship that didn’t exist prior.   
Maybe it was because he missed Mikey, and Gerard was the last piece of him he had to hang on to.   
Maybe it was because he knew that Mikey wouldn’t want him to fight with his brother, someone whom he was just as close to, likely more so.  
“I’m sorry, too.” Gerard spoke quietly. It surprised Frank, he hadn’t expected Gerard to forgive him so quickly, and less so to apologize himself. Mikey was known to hold a grudge, and was infinitely stubborn. But Frank seemed to be realizing that the two brothers, while similar, were a possible study in disparity.  
“I know you were just trying to help, and I shouldn’t have blown up at you.” Gerard continued, making unsure eye contact with Frank. Frank nodded and placed an unsteady hand on Gerard’s shoulder and nodded. “So…what now?” He asked.  
Gerard shrugged and rubbed at his eyes with both hands in fists, an extraordinarily similar gesture to what Mikey would do when he was sleepy, and Frank took notice. “M’tired.” He said and Frank chuckled. “What’s so funny?” Gerard questioned, faking mock defense.   
“Reminds me of Mikey, the way you rub your eyes like a kid.” Frank said, and Gerard smiled, remembering. “I suppose he probably picked that up from me.” They both tittered quietly, tired and emotionally drained, though finding comfort in each other’s company.   
“I miss him, Frank.” Gerard admitted into the silence. Frank knew this, he missed him too, but, for some reason he felt like he needed to comfort Gerard right now, and honestly, he wondered if it was his own voice in his head telling him to make his next move – or Mikey’s.  
Frank put his arms around Gerard’s neck and pulled him close. He hugged him tightly, closing his eyes as he laid his head on his shoulder. Gerard smelled like alcohol and cigarettes, smoky and bitter, so similar to his brother.  
Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank’s waist, hooking his head under Frank’s chin and on his chest. For someone he didn’t know very well, Frank’s arms felt so secure. He listened to his heartbeat thrumming quickly in his chest and his eyes started to close of their own accord, the lids heavy with exhaustion.   
When they finally pulled away, no words desired to be spoken. Frank pulled blankets and pillow from the corner they were stashed and set up a spot across the room to sleep on. Gerard curled back under the covers, and for the first time in days, turned the TV off.   
There was the sound of both men getting comfortable, of blankets shifting and rolling around, until calm finally filled the air, pulling both into a deep, comfortable sleep that had been long overdue.


	11. I Hurt Myself Today to See if I Still Feel

Gerard woke up first this time, sometime around 12:30PM the next day. Frank was still sleeping soundly, Gerard presumed, on the floor curled in between what had to be the two scratchiest blankets he owned.   
Frank was an oddly quiet sleeper, so much so that Gerard wasn’t entirely sure if he was asleep or awake and staring at the wall.   
He dawdled out of bed and stood over him, chancing a peek at his face that had been turned away from view. Hindsight is 20/20, however, because after confirming that Frank was indeed asleep, Gerard realized just how creepy his hovering over Frank would have looked had he been awake the whole time.  
He was now stood in his room, seemingly suspended between his bed and the door, unsure of what to do with himself while Frank slept. He hadn’t been out of the basement in days, existing only on booze and cigarettes, and had he not needed to use the bathroom, he likely wouldn’t have even left the bed.   
He figured now was as good a time as ever ,though, to make his way upstairs and breathe air that wasn’t stale and cellar kept. Maybe some daylight would do him some good, as well.  
Nevertheless, once he got to the top of the stairs and stepped into the living room, he was lost again. The house was still; bright but hollow, and Gerard was forlorn. The house was never this quiet, music usually streaming from Mikey’s bedroom or his mom humming while working in the kitchen.   
Even the dogs from across the street weren’t barking, and the anomaly was enough to make Gerard shake. It was too much, but not enough all at the same time, his ears ringing with deathly silence as he stood there, motionless, waiting to wake up from this nightmare.   
He shut his eyes tight and desperately pleaded for things to go back to normal once he opened them again. He begged and cried aloud, forgetting that Frank was just downstairs, for this to all just be a horrific, terrible dream.   
As expected, once he opened his eyes, things were exactly the same as before; silent and empty.   
Gerard wasn’t a violent person by nature, but the rage that had built in his gut over the past few agonizing days was boiling its way back up his throat and making its existence well known as he gripped the porcelain table lamp next to him and flung it clear across the room, shattering upon impact with the wall.   
He wasn’t done though, hell bent on ensuring the entire world knew just how distraught he was. Gerard kicked through the glass side table, pain searing through his socked foot instantly, but was ignored in the heat of the moment, the top of the table cracking and shattering the minute it hit the hardwood floor.  
“Whoa, whoa, calm down.” Frank fussed, suddenly behind him, grabbing Gerard forcefully by the arm. He had been torn from his sleep by the sound of glass smashing upstairs and ran to the sound without a second thought to find Gerard destroying his living room.   
Frank recoiled when Gerard turned rapidly, staring daggers at him, pupils blown and the gentle crease of wrinkles on his forehead, brow furrowed and pulled forward.   
He couldn’t stand to look him in the eyes, admittedly a little scared of the older man. Frank turned his eyes downward, still gripping Gerard’s arm tightly as he huffed and puffed, coming down from his tantrum.   
“Fuck, Gerard. You’re bleeding.” Frank realized, kneeling down to look at Gerard’s foot. The front of his sock was starting to soak through with blood. Gerard said nothing, but pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.  
“Come on, kitchen.” Frank demanded, heaving Gerard forward. Gerard limped his way to a chair and sat down roughly, placing his head in his lap and groaning, the pain starting to come back to him.   
Frank grabbed the paper towels from the counter and carefully removed Gerard’s sock for him with warily pinched fingers. Frank wasn’t exactly a fan of blood, but he tried not to let it be too obvious as he placed two towels on Gerard’s foot and held pressure.   
After multiple paper towels, fifteen minutes and only one bout of Frank gagging, the bleeding had stopped and Gerard could see where the wound was. There was a two to three inch slice on the top of his foot. There was no glass stuck in it that either of them could see, and it looked like it would eventually close without stitches.   
Sure, Gerard almost certainly should take a trip to the emergency room, but that would cost money and time and require effort and none of those things sounded very appealing. So, they wrapped it up in gauze and Gerard kept his fingers crossed that it didn’t get infected.  
“Where’s the vacuum?” Frank asked as they walked back into the living room; well, Frank walked, Gerard hobbled. Looking around at the damage, Gerard really did feel remorseful. Whenever his mom did come home, she surely would question why there was a glass table and lamp missing.  
“I honestly have no idea.” Gerard said stepping carefully over glass fragments. “Do I look like the sort of person who regularly vacuums?” He chuckled. Frank smirked, truthfully just happy to see Gerard making light of the situation instead of swimming in self-pity, though not unwarranted.  
“Duly noted.” Frank nodded. “Speaking of, when was the last time you bathed?” he asked with a cringe.   
“Mmm…” Gerard thought about that for a moment. “When did the challenger blow up?” Gerard questioned, baring his teeth with a sarcastic grin.  
“Uh…1986?” Frank made disgusted a face at Gerard before crossing his arms against his chest. “Gerard, you weren’t even alive in 1986.” Frank laughed before continuing “Why don’t you go do that and I’ll clean this up.”   
Gerard smiled, willing to deviate from wallowing in his filth if it meant he didn’t have to clean up the remnants of his living room. “Yeah, ok.”  
“And don’t forget to put a plastic bag over that foot!” Frank shouted as Gerard limped down the stairs into the basement. Gerard grumbled in response and Frank shrugged before opening closet doors to find something to clean up this mess.


	12. But I Haven't Laughed in Days

“I really do feel better.” Gerard commended as he plopped on the couch across from Frank. He was scratching at his head with a towel, his hair sticking up in wild directions that Frank found absolutely risible.   
“What are you smirking at?” Gerard questioned, his hands ceasing their movement through his knotted locks. “Your hair.” Frank cackled. “You look like you’ve been electrocuted!” Frank was bellowing, holding his sides and face turning red.   
Gerard huffed in offence and threw the damp towel in Franks’ direction making its landing right on his lap. “Gross!” Frank shouted in between giggles and threw it back towards Gerard who ducked it at the last moment. Frank missed, dreadfully, the cloth going straight over the back of the couch and onto the railing next to the stairs, making an awful wet, plopping sound when it hit the ground.   
There was quiet for a moment before Gerard burst into hilarity, lying sideways on the couch in near tears, pointing at Frank and stuttering over his words. “You have fucking the worst…the worst aim I’ve ever seen!” Gerard bolstered. “Fucking worse than Mikey, and he got kicked off of the baseball team for pitching the ball and hitting someone in the bleachers!”   
Frank’s face was positively red, embarrassed, but laughing still. “Shut up!” Frank shouted, but it held no weight, for it went utterly ignored as Gerard continued to giggle to himself from his spot on the couch.   
“Oh my god, Frank. I haven’t laughed that hard in days and it wasn’t even that funny.” Gerard admitted, wiping the tears from his face. “I’m fucking starving.” Gerard commented after settling himself.   
“Me too.” Frank agreed. “Want to get out of this house?”   
Gerard hesitated for a moment, thinking about his options and if he was ready to start moving on with his life before answering. “Yeah.” He said tentatively, a near whisper. “Yeah, I really do.” Gerard said, more confidently.   
“Cool.” Frank smiled. “Hey, do you think I could borrower a clean shirt? I’ve been wearing this for like a week and I think I got some of your blood on it.” Frank said, looking down at his besmirched grey shirt.   
“Mikey’s would probably fit you better.” Gerard said instantly, not overlooking, but he wanted Frank to be able to have some of Mikey’s belongings; he did from the moment Mikey died, but he hadn’t known how to bring it up. This seemed like at the very least, a small opportunity to give something small back to Frank.  
It took Frank by surprise, however, and he chewed on his bottom lip roughly with anxiety. “I, uh…I don’t think…” Frank trailed on, the lump in his throat making his ability to speak harder and harder with each breath.   
“I’m sorry; I just thought you might like something of his.” Gerard replied sadly. “I do!” Frank piped up. “I’m just not ready to go in there.” He admitted finally.  
“I can’t say that I am, either.” Gerard agreed. “Come on, I’ll get you one of mine.” Gerard stood and walked carefully towards the basement. Frank followed on his heels, though stopping on his way to gaze up the stairs towards Mikey’s room and wonder if he would ever be ready to face the mountain of pain that was waiting for him up there.


	13. She Deprives Me

“So, I was thinking.” Gerard spoke suddenly, in between bites of his sandwich. He and Frank had settled on a small café not far from the house; something quiet and quick. Frank nodded, asking Gerard to continue with his thought. “About Mikey’s service.”   
Frank swallowed his bite of food before clearing his throat, he knew they would have to talk about it eventually, but that didn’t stop the bile from rising in his stomach at the thought. “What were you thinking?” He replied unnervingly.   
“I want to do it this Sunday, with or without Mom.” Gerard said decidedly. “I want to do it in the backyard, under the oak tree. When Mom forced us outside he would always sit under there and read.” He continued with a smile.   
Frank smiled back. “That sounds like a great idea.”   
Gerard nodded at him, pleased.   
“You’ll call his friends, right?” Gerard asked a few moments later.  
“Of course.” Frank said with a sad smile. “You worry about getting Mikey home; I’ll take care of the rest. Ok?”   
“Ok.” Gerard said quietly.

That was easier said than done, however. Though Gerard had only been tasked with going to the funeral home and picking up the urn, it was definitely the most emotionally taxing job.  
Gerard had thrown up twice already, and it was only just passed 10AM. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, tempted a few times with calling Frank to come over and keep him company. He wound up sitting in bed, alone, in the dark however, not wanting to bother Frank when he had classes and a funeral to plan.   
Gerard knew that it would be ready at noon, but Gerard wasn’t sure if that was too soon, or not soon enough. His head was buried into the pillow on the living room couch, eyes closed and breathing slowly. He was trying to drown the thoughts out with complete silence, mask everything with the crisp sound of birds chirping in the early morning outside.   
He was enjoying the peace, stomach settling a bit when the house phone rang. Gerard’s cell phone had been shut off for a few days, and no one knew to call the house phone but Frank and telemarketers, and Frank was in class right now. Gerard let the machine in the kitchen get it, expecting an advertisement or a bill collector, but the voice on the line made him shoot his head up straight and listen.   
“Hi sweetie, it’s uh, mom…”   
Gerard ground his teeth down, hands involuntarily clenching into fists as she spoke.   
‘Listen, I’m really sorry for…you know. I just needed to get out…I had to get away. I’m so sorry. I don’t know when I’ll be back; I went to go see Aunt Margaret in Seattle. She offered to let me stay for a while. I couldn’t face a funeral; I couldn’t face someone else leaving me. I know I’m a coward, I know you’ll never forgive me, but I love you. You can reach me at Aunt Margaret’s’ any time, ok? Uh, alright. I love you so much, Gerard. Uh, bye,’  
Gerard spent a long time just staring at the wall that separated the kitchen and the living room, willing it in his mind to just come crumbling down and crash on top of him.   
He wasn’t angry anymore; well he was, but he didn’t care enough to let it eat through him any longer. Mikey’s death had done enough damage, and over the past few days he had almost forgotten his mom had left.   
She was so fucking selfish.   
He didn’t care if he ever saw her again, and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t filled with anger that someone had done something so unapologetically wrong, he simply felt sorry for her. He felt sorry that she wasn’t able to be a mother when her now, only, son needed her the most.


	14. I've Been Locked Inside Your Heart-Shaped Box For Weeks

Gerard sat in his car for twenty minutes.   
He tried deep breathing, counting his breaths. He tried meditating, he tried listening to music. He tried everything, but he was still left a nervous wreck.   
The funeral home looked just like any other funeral home, a moderately sized, ornate building. It was well lit with wrought iron lampposts, the side of the building lined with impeccably placed stone. The lawn was manicured attractively, the parking lot paved smooth.   
And for a moment, Gerard was almost tricked into thinking that this wasn’t a house of death; that this wasn’t the place where Mikey’s body had been turned to ash and subsequently stored in a decorative container; said decorative container being what Gerard came to pick up at precisely noon.   
When Gerard finally gathered the courage to leave the safety of his seat and make his way towards the entrance, he did so on shaky legs.   
He hadn’t eaten, and what little was in his stomach this morning had been vomited back up by 10AM. Despite feeling like he was minutes away from passing out, the clock struck twelve and Gerard wouldn’t wait another second to have his brother back.  
Though, this was last on a never ending list of acceptable states for Mikey to be in.  
The inside was no less visually pleasing, well decorated with comfortable looking chairs, soft carpeting beneath his feet and expertly crafted crown molding.   
An older gentleman smiled as he entered before silently standing from behind his desk and making his way over, a hand outstretched for Gerard to grasp.  
“You must be Mr. Way.” He said softly with a gentle shake of Gerard’s hand. He had kind eyes and a warm, sympathetic smile, but it did nothing to east Gerard’s nerves.  
Gerard didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded in agreement.   
He was led to one of the chairs against the wall, the gentleman offering him water or coffee, both of which he politely declined. He just wanted to get this over with.   
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Way.” He began. Gerard was sure he had said his name, properly introduced himself, but he couldn’t remember. The man was talking quietly, running through the process, the standards and asking if he would like to hold a service at the parlor.   
“No, thank you. We’re having one at home.” Gerard said unevenly.  
“Of course.” The man said. “You chose a customary box, the black and silver one, correct?” He asked.  
“Yes.”   
“Alright. One moment.” He said before standing and leaving the room, returning minutes later with a shiny black box.  
It was polished beautifully, with a silver lock adorning the front. It was much smaller than Gerard thought it would be, no bigger than jewelry box. He couldn’t imagine how Mikey’s body fit in it.  
“Does this meet your approval, Mr. Way?” He asked, concerned when Gerard stared at it uneasily.   
“Yes.” Was all he could say as he reached out to graze a finger over the smooth gloss.   
Gerard was lost in thought, imagining Mikey’s ashes being delicately placed in this container after being charred down to almost nothing by a violent furnace.  
“I’m glad it suits you, Mr. Way.” The man replied. “There is just the small matter…” He was cut off.  
“Here.” Gerard said before he could finish, holding out his credit card to him with eyes not leaving the box. “Whatever it costs.” 

When Gerard went to leave, he was stunned at how light the box was. It didn’t feel real, carrying this ornamental coffin in his arms, cradling it as he would have had it been Mikey’s unbroken body.   
Gerard strapped the box into the passenger seat, wrapping the seatbelt meticulously around it. This was still Mikey’s body, and Gerard would still protect it as such.   
The drive home was unnerving, Gerard glancing over every few minutes to check and make sure the box was still there, though where it would have gone Gerard hadn’t placed.   
When Gerard finally pulled around the corner, Frank was waiting for him out front. He was slouched up against his car in the driveway, smoking, simply waiting for Gerard to return.  
“What are you doing here?” Gerard asked as he stepped out of the driver’s seat. Frank stomped out his cigarette and walked over to meet him, grinning.  
“I skipped class, wanted to make sure you were ok.” He said nonchalantly.   
Frank said it like it was nothing, but to Gerard, it was everything.   
He should have never had to do this on his own; his mother should have been there with him. She should be here, she should be grieving with him. She should fucking be here. But she wasn’t.  
And as Gerard heaved Frank in his arms for a tight hug, a slight sob leaving his mouth, he was endlessly grateful that Mikey had Frank as a best friend.


	15. To Live a Simple Life in a Difficult Time

“It’s really beautiful, Gerard.” Frank remarked at the box lying in the center of the kitchen table. Gerard shook his head in disagreement, standing at the end of the table, Frank beside him.  
“I wish I had been able to get a really nice one. They had these super decorative ones, but…money.” Gerard dawdled off.  
Frank sighed. “Mikey was a simple guy, and it’s a simple box. It’s perfect.” Frank replied, patting Gerard on the back. “Besides, this must have cost you a couple hundred, at least. It’s no shoebox.”   
“Try over a thousand.” Gerard admitted quietly with a groan. “It’s just…Mikey deserves the best. I only wish I could afford the best.”   
“Gee, it’s perfect. I promise.” Frank replied honestly, his hand still on Gerard’s shoulder.   
Gerard was silent for a few moments, just thinking. Not about the box anymore; about Frank. No one had called him ‘Gee’ since Mikey died, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. It should feel weird, he wanted it to feel weird, but it didn’t. It sounded kind of nice coming from Frank’s mouth.   
“Mikey was the one who started calling me Gee” Gerard said sadly, his hands fidgeting beneath him. Frank had been used to hearing Mikey call Gerard ‘Gee’ for years. It felt weird calling him Gerard all this time, but Frank knew it was Mikey’s nickname, so he avoided using it. Eventually it just fell out.  
“Shit, I’m sorry. It just slipped out, I won’t say it again.” Frank reeled, trying to back track.  
“No, no. It, uh…it actually feels nice to hear it.” Gerard smiled and turned towards Frank. Frank smiled, honest and heartfelt, something like understanding in his eyes.  
“Well, I better get going.” Frank acknowledged, and picked up his jacket from the back of the kitchen chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”   
“You will?” Gerard questioned, confused.  
“If you want to. It’s Saturday, I don’t have classes and I thought you might want some company.” Frank replied, shrugging.  
“Uh, sure. That would be nice.” Gerard smiled as he walked with Frank towards the door. “I’ll see you, Frank.” He said, and opened the door for him.  
“Bye, Gee.” Frank waved as he walked down the steps, and towards his car. He started it and drove off quickly. Gerard watched him go.


	16. If Home is Where The Heart Is, Then We're All Just Fucked

“You’re going there again? You just got home.” James asked with a leer. Frank was packing a bag; a few movies, extra pair of clothes, phone charger. The essentials, he figured. Tomorrow was the funeral and Frank assumed he would be staying the night. To prepare, of course.  
“Yeah, why?” Frank asked with a glare as he shoved his belongings messily into the bag. “Besides, you get the dorm to yourself while I’m gone. You can fuck all the girls you want.” Frank mumbled.  
“I just feel like I’ve barely seen you recently.” James said, picking up a DVD case from Franks’ bed and looking at the picture on the cover. He picked at the label in the corner.  
“Yeah, well…” Frank trailed off; he didn’t have much of an answer for James. Instead, he grabbed the DVD case from his hands and pushed it into his bag. “You’ll be there tomorrow right? You have the address?”   
“It’s in my phone, I’ll be there.” James said, sitting back down on his bunk across from Frank with a shrug of his shoulders. Frank nodded and zipped up his bag before heading for the door.  
Frank stopped at the doorway and turned around to look at James. “Thanks, James.” Frank said, considering his friend sincerely. He did feel bad that he hadn’t had much time for him recently but, Mikey came first. He always did. Right now Gerard came first, for Mikey.   
At least that’s what Frank told himself as he shut the door to the dorm behind him.


	17. Posession of the Mind is a Terrible Thing

“Hey, I brought Shaun of the Dead!” Frank called as he walked in the door. He had taken to letting himself in, apparently. Well, Gerard had left the door unlocked, so he figured it was ok.  
He didn’t hear a reply back, so Frank expected Gerard was in the basement. He made his way down the stairs, steps creaking noisily with each footstep. Frank heard music coming from Gerard’s room, loud enough to drown out the sound of Frank walking in, but quiet enough to hear Gerard lightly singing along with the music.   
Frank just stood in the doorway for a moment, giggling to himself as he listened to Gerard humming. His back was turned to Frank, sitting at his desk. He must have been drawing because his shoulder blades were flexing, moving under his shirt. His head was bobbing, just a little bit, in time with the beat of the drum line.  
Frank just took the scene in for a second, because even though he couldn’t see Gerard’s face, he could tell that he was in a better mood than he had been in days. Frank didn’t know when he started to care about what kind of mood Gerard was in, but he did.  
And it wasn’t just for Mikey anymore, not really. Frank was genuinely happy to see that Gerard wasn’t drinking himself into oblivion or crying himself to sleep. It was a nice feeling, to see your friend feeling like…well, themselves again.  
When did Gerard become Frank’s friend? He pondered. Before now he was just Mikey’s older brother; nothing more, nothing less. He wondered if Gerard believed Frank was his friend, too. Frank would like to think so.  
“I brought Shaun of the Dead.” Frank said into the silence between songs. Gerard’s head snapped back to look at the doorway, his cheeks just barely pink with embarrassment, his eyes squinted and his lips pursed.  
“How long have you been standing there?” Gerard questioned with a grimace, turning the music off just as the next song started up. Frank laughed and walked farther into the room, setting his bag down on the bed. “Long enough.” He teased.  
“Rude.” Gerard said jokingly. “How’d you know I liked Shaun of the Dead?” Gerard asked as he began to stack his pencils back in their case.  
Frank just laughed. “Well, actually…” Frank unzipped his bag and pulled out the DVD and held it out to Gerard. “It’s your copy.”  
Gerard took the DVD from Frank and looked it over. It was his copy; what the hell?  
“Mikey brought it over a few months ago so we could watch it; gave me the whole ‘be careful with it, it’s my brothers’ copy’ speech.” Frank shot him a toothy grin. “But I forgot about it.”  
Gerard stared at him with mock offense. “You little fucker.” Gerard said quietly. “You know how long I’ve been looking for this?” Gerard raised an eyebrow.  
“I’m going to assume about three months?” Frank replied sardonically.   
“Oh, and sarcastic, too.” Gerard mocked. “Soooorrryyyy.” Frank drew out the word, like a child would, batting his eyelashes at the older man. Gerard smiled at him.  
“Whatcha drawing?” Frank questioned innocently, trying to change the subject.   
“I’ve been trying to finish this wolf for weeks but I had kind of lost interest in it. Mikey really liked it, so I thought I’d try and finish it for him.” Gerard smiled down at the drawing that was nearly finished. It was just a simple sketch of a cartoon style wolf. Mikey had said he liked it because it reminded him of Hannah Barbera cartoons.  
“Can I see?” Frank asked, sitting on the side of the bed facing Gerard. Gerard held the paper out to Frank. He took it from him carefully, running a gentle finger over the pencil marks. It was the same sketch that he had seen a few days ago, the unfinished one.   
It looked so much more complete now, with plenty of detail, yet all the simplicity of a cartoon. “This is awesome, Gee.” Frank said, eyes still focused on the picture.  
“Thanks.” Gerard replied with a smile. “Wanna watch the movie now?” He asked, opening the DVD case and inspecting the disc for scratches.   
“Definitely.” Frank said, setting the picture back down on the desk and making himself comfortable no the bed.


	18. Your Similarities are What Make You Different

The two had both settled themselves on Gerard’s queen size bed, which in actuality was plenty big enough for the both of them, but they both shoved at each other trying to get more space.  
Neither had been watching much of the movie so far, both talking through most of it. Gerard had gone upstairs to get a few beers in the beginning of the movie, and had gone back up around 45 minutes in for a few more.  
Now at the end of the movie, and with about four beers each, they were both sufficiently tipsy and snickering happily; making fun of the dreadful prosthetics and the laughable dialogue. Frank was sitting up alongside the wall, Gerard lying sideways in front of him facing the TV.   
“Man, this movie never gets old.” Frank chuckled, taking a sip from his bottle. It was still early in the day, but Frank’s body was already buzzing with the alcohol. He thought to himself, why not? They had both had what was likely the worst week of their lives so far, and for that, Frank presumed they both deserved this.  
“Mikey and I must have watched this a couple dozen times, at least.” Gerard said proudly, getting up from the bed to turn the blue screen of the DVD player off. “You wanna pick a movie?” He asked, opening up the cabinet under the TV to reveal stacks of B-list movies.  
“Sure.” Frank replied and hopped off the bed. He knelt down in front of the cabinet and started rifling through the titles. He picked through the movies silently, reading labels, giggling at a few or wincing before putting them back.   
“This is totally weird.” Gerard said a few moments later, pondering. “What is?” Frank asked, eyes still focused on the DVD cases. “Déjà vu I guess. Mikey and I used to do this.” Gerard said, but this time it didn’t sound so sad, more so it sounded like reminiscent.  
“Yeah, we did too, sometimes.” Frank said while pulling out a DVD and putting it to the side.   
“You’re not…” Gerard sighed before finishing. Frank focused on him, looking at his face from where he was sitting on the floor next to him. His hair had fallen into his face, black strands covering his eyes, but Frank could tell they were sad.  
“I’m not what?” Frank questioned. Gerard just shrugged and folded in on himself. He slumped against the wall and pushed a few strands of hair behind his ear. Frank continued to look at him bewilderingly. He had an idea of what Gerard was trying to ask, but he wanted to hear him say it.   
“You’re not just hanging out with me so much because you miss Mikey, right?” Gerard finally asked quietly. His voice came out small, and somewhat ashamed. Gerard felt bad for asking, because he truly wanted to believe that Frank just liked him for who he was.   
But, he had to ask. Gerard had never been a social person, and because of this his friendships either never lasted long or ended badly. He couldn’t help it; he was self-conscious. He wasn’t sure if he deserved friends of his own.  
“Gerard.” Frank said shortly. He set a DVD case down on the floor and shifted so that he was facing him.   
“I miss Mikey like hell.” He began before taking a sharp inhale. “And in the beginning, I just wanted to be here. To be where Mikey was. To feel like there was some part of him around me.”  
Gerard nodded, understanding. At least, he thought he understood. He had been right then, Frank was here because he missed Mikey.  
“But because of that, I’ve been getting to know you. In a lot of ways you’re similar to Mikey; your love for comics, your music taste, how you snore when you’re drunk.” Frank laughed. “But there are a million ways that you’re different, too. No one could replace Mikey, you know that better than anyone. I would never even try to replace him. I’m here because I’m your friend.”   
Gerard smiled at him, sadly. “I’m not a very good friend.”   
“Who told you that?” Frank asked with a shake of his head.  
“No one. A good friend wouldn’t doubt you. I’m sorry.” Gerard answered.  
“Don’t be. I get it.” Frank replied and patted Gerard’s knee. “Come on, Gee; let’s go watch this shit fest.” Frank smiled, opening up the case and slipping the DVD into the player.  
Gerard picked the discarded case up from the floor and pondered it. “Oh wow, you weren’t kidding. Space Mutiny? Really?” Gerard laughed, earning a nudge from Frank.  
“Space Mutiny.” He nodded.


	19. With Swords Still Wet with The Blood of Their Dead

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this.” Gerard spoke through shaky breaths. He clutched the box close to his chest. He was dressed nicely, in clean black pants and a button down black shirt. His hair was brushed and placed behind his ears. Frank thought he cleaned up nicely.  
“You’ll never be ready.” Frank replied dejectedly, placing a gentle hand on Gerard’s back. He wasn’t ready, either.  
Gerard positioned the box on the grass, under the oak tree. It was a picturesque day, if Gerard did admit it. A perfect October day. The leaves were pooled at the trunk of the tree just perfectly, cradling Mikey’s ashes.   
The sun was shining, and the temperature was warm for the season. Guests would be arriving soon, Frank assured Gerard. Frank had called everyone that was important to Mikey and asked them to please pass along the sad news and service arrangements.  
Frank had received quite a few texts and phone calls confirming people would be coming, and to be honest, Frank didn’t know quite how many people would be showing up today. He did know that Mikey was loved by many.  
Gerard didn’t care who would or wouldn’t be there, including his mother. All he cared about today was Mikey and saying a proper goodbye. It was selfish, he knew, but he couldn’t help but be preoccupied with his own grief. Frank couldn’t blame him.  
Considering he hadn’t known Frank personally for long, Gerard trusted Frank with ensuring everyone that Mikey cared about was here today. He figured that if Mikey trusted Frank, then he did, too.  
The two had set up rows of folding chairs facing the oak tree. The grass was flat enough that they were able to drag Gerard’s art easel out onto the grass as a makeshift stand. They had spent a large portion of the morning filling a poster board with pictures of Mikey throughout the years to be placed upon it.  
Gerard only teared up once while setting up. Thanks to Frank, his mind was occupied with telling him stories about when they were kids instead of dwelling on the present. Gerard would have to remember to thank him later.  
When people started arriving, Gerard was overwhelmed by the faces he recognized. There were Mikey’s friends from high school, a few teachers, and even coworkers from his summer job at the supermarket.   
Nearly everyone took the time to shake Gerard’s hand and tell him how sorry they were; Gerard was just glad they came.  
But, it also broke Gerard’s heart to see so many people that loved Mikey here today. How could Mikey think that his life wasn’t worth living? It was. It so fucking was.   
Mikey was supposed to live until he was old and wrinkled. He was supposed to go to parties and fall in love, he was supposed to buy a house and file taxes.   
He was supposed to take that trip to Germany like he wanted; he even said he would take Gerard with him. He was supposed to fight with Gerard about stupid things, like brothers do, and then make up and laugh about it later.  
Mikey was supposed to get a job he loved and get a dog like he always said he would. He was going to do so many things. He was supposed to be here.  
He was supposed to be here.  
And that’s the last thing Gerard uttered from the back of the rows of seats before passing out on the concrete patio.


	20. It's Getting Hard, Harder to Breathe

“Gee.”   
“Gerard.”  
“Come on, Gee. Wake up.”  
Frank was shaking Gerard lightly, patting his face to try and get him to stir. “Can you get some water?” Frank called to anyone who was standing by. Frank briefly saw someone run past him and into the house.   
“Come on.” Frank tried again, patting Gerard’s face. Gerard shifted a little and let out a groan as he opened his eyes. “Oh fuck.” He mumbled and pushed himself up into a sitting position. “I passed out.”   
“Yeah, you did buddy.” Frank chuckled uncomfortably. Someone passed him a glass of water and Frank held it out in front of Gerard. “Thanks” Gerard said gratefully and took a drink before rubbing at his eyes.   
“You ok?” Frank asked as Gerard handed the glass back and pushed himself upwards. Frank grabbed his hand and heaved him onto his feet. Gerard brushed himself off, his pants and shirt covered in debris from the leaves.  
“I had to pass out on the concrete.” Gerard muttered to himself as he rubbed at his shoulder. Frank made a sympathetic face at him before helping him to a chair in the front of the lawn.   
“Alright everyone, show’s over!” Frank yelled to the group of people standing around. They mostly laughed and went back to their seats. Gerard rolled his eyes.   
“You sure you’re ok?” Frank asked one last time with his hand on Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard nodded and shooed him away with his hand. “I’m fine, I promise. You go start.”  
Frank turned around and helped to usher everyone to a seat. He was pleasantly surprised to see that there were positively more people than he had called here. There weren’t enough chairs, and some people were standing in the back, and overall it was a heartwarming turnout for someone who deserved so much.  
“Hi everyone.” Frank spoke over the low chatter of the crowd. “Thank you for coming to celebrate Mikey today.”   
Gerard was watching him intently as he spoke, reminiscing about Mikey. Gerard couldn’t help but take notice of the recognizably Italian hand gestures he made, the way he shifted on his heels when he was pandering, how he smiled when he talked about Mikey.  
“Mikey was, undoubtedly, so very loved.” Frank began. “Mikey was my best friend. The first real friend I ever had. I taught him how to play guitar, and he taught me how to be true to myself. It wasn’t a very even trade.” The crowd laughed a bit and Frank sighed.  
“Mikey made everyone whose lives he touched better, including mine. He gave all of himself to you when you were around him. Everything he did was genuine, from his laugh to his opinions to his dislikes – Mikey was open and honest, and in turn, we all gained from that. We gained someone we could trust, depend on. Mikey still is my best friend, he always will be.” Frank turned his eyes toward Gerard.  
“Mikey will never be replaced, and I could never try, because Mikey holds a special place in my heart, a place that is kind and understanding, a place that will continue to teach me how to be a good person. I will continue to learn from Mikey, even though he isn’t here. He set a flawless example of what a friend should be, and I aspire to be what he was to me, to someone else. Thank you.”

 

Many people got up and told stories about Mikey that afternoon. Some were funny, some were sad; all were hard for Gerard to hear.   
Gerard didn’t tell any stories, though; instead he decided to say his goodbye privately, after everyone had left. He was seated at the base of the tree, next to the black box nearing dusk. He had his hand lying on top of it, thumb rubbing circles in the smooth gloss on the top.  
Frank was inside, looking at the backyard through the kitchen window as he smoked a cigarette. He had been keeping it together for Gerard all day, trying to stay positive and light for his sake.  
But, as he watched Gerard sit cross-legged at the trunk of the tree, his lips moving as he spoke to Mikey, Frank wasn’t sure that he could hold it in any longer.   
He wondered what Gerard was saying to Mikey, and for the first time since Mikey died, Frank cried.   
Not just a few tears and sniffles like before. Frank sobbed hard, dropping his half smoked cigarette in the ashtray as he slid down to the floor, back against the countertop and head in his hands.

“Mikey, Mikey, Mikey.” Gerard chanted with an exhale. “Why, Mikey? I just don’t fucking understand. You promised me we would get through this. You promised me you would tell me if it got bad again.” Gerard had to admit he was angry; angry that Mikey would lie to him like this and take such drastic measures.  
But, he couldn’t be mad at Mikey, not really, just the situation. “I’m not angry at you, Mikes. I just miss you, is all. I wanted to become old men together. I’ve lived my whole life with you by my side and I don’t know what to do now. What do I do with my life? I don’t know how to go on without you.”  
Gerard leaned against the tree and pulled the box into his lap. “Mikey, without you I’m condemned to be a hermit forever, you know that, right?” He laughed. “You were the only one that could persuade me out of the house. I love you so much, Mikes. I miss you every day, you know? Every fucking day I think about you constantly. I think I always will.”   
Gerard sighed and ran his fingers over the lock on the urn. “Do you remember how scared I was when you convinced me it was time to tell Mom I was gay? How I threw up that morning? How I had a panic attack waiting for her to come home from work? I thought I would never be more afraid of what was to come than I was that day. I never had been until now. I’m scared, Mikey. I’m fucking petrified to go on without you. You were always my voice of reason, and now…I only have my thoughts to keep me sane. I guess, I just hope that you’re at peace now. I’m happy that you aren’t suffering anymore, and you aren’t sad anymore. I love you, always.”


	21. Don't Ever Try to Fly, Unless You Leave Your Body on The Other Side

“Hey, you alright?” Gerard questioned as he walked in the back door, Mikey’s box clutched tightly in his left arm. Frank was sitting up against the cabinets in the kitchen, just staring off into space. It was unlike Frank, to be so quiet and solemn looking.   
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Frank said and shook his head, attempting to clear the dizzying thoughts in his head. Gerard held out his right hand and helped Frank to his feet.   
“Shitty day.” Gerard expressed with an exhale. He sat down at the kitchen table and set the box down gently in front of him. Frank nodded and sat across from Gerard. “I never got to really say thank you for everything. I couldn’t have pulled any of this off without you.” Gerard admitted.  
“Don’t mention it. You know I was more than happy to.” Frank smiled at Gerard.  
“I’m glad Mikey had you as a friend.” Gerard said after a moment, eyes planted firmly on the box in front of him still.  
“I was the lucky one.” Frank sighed. Gerard eyed him quizzically, trying to decipher the expression on Frank’s face, but it passed quicker than Gerard could grasp.   
“So I guess you’d better be getting back to school soon.” Gerard cleared his throat and stood from his seat. He started gathering the cards guests had left on the counter. Most of them were your generic ‘sorry for your loss’ cards that were so full of bullshit that Gerard didn’t even plan on reading them.  
He guessed that the thought was done with good intentions, at least.   
“Eventually.” Frank shrugged and sunk in on himself a little bit. He really did not feel like facing reality right now. James was complacent during the funeral, but Frank knew he would be hit with a shit-storm of questions the second he got back to the dorm.  
“I’m sure you’ve already missed a ton of classes on my account, Frank.” Gerard disciplined, decidedly keeping his eyes on the counter, ignoring Frank’s look of bewilderment.   
“It’s really not a big deal.” Frank retorted. School didn’t matter, not anymore. Frank didn’t think it mattered at all, in the grand scheme of things. He only went to appease his parents, he wasn’t exactly top of his class, and he had no real interest in anything he studied. School came secondary to everything, especially now.  
“It is a big deal!” Gerard shouted. Frank flinched a bit at the tone of Gerard’s voice. It was unexpected to say the least. “It’s time for you to go, Frank.” Gerard said, a bit less loudly, but no less bitter.  
Frank just stared at him for a moment. Gerard’s eyes were glassy, but decided and firm. His mouth was contorted into an angry frown, creating lines on his forehead. He looked cross, but underneath that Frank could see the pain.   
“Is that what you want?” Frank questioned calmly. Gerard seemed to consider that for a moment, though his expression remained unchanged.  
“I want you to go back to school and move on with your life, Frank. Yes.” He responded shortly.   
“That’s not what I asked, Gerard.” Frank said. Gerard shook his head in incredulity and turned his back to Frank. Frank waited a few moments before standing up and walking next to Gerard.  
“Answer me, Gerard. Is that what you want? Frank questioned quietly from his left side. He heard Gerard try to muffle a sigh, a sound resembling something like defeat.   
“It doesn’t matter what I want.” Gerard muttered and Frank made an exasperated noise.   
“It does, Gerard!” Frank was yelling now, his hands in the air making wild gestures as he shouted. “You matter! What you want matters to me, Gerard! As much you like to think that you don’t matter, you fucking do!” Frank slammed his fists on the counter startling Gerard. “What do you want, Gerard? Just fucking tell me!”   
Gerard turned to him, his eyes wet with hurt. His extremities were shaking, but Gerard inched closer to Frank quickly, grabbing him by the arms and shoving his back up against the counter hard enough that Frank made a pained sound when his back hit the corner of the countertop.   
Gerard stared down at Frank, whose tough demeanor was softening by the minute as he pinned the younger man back. He swallowed hard and unclenched his hands from around Frank’s biceps, blinking his eyes and stepping back from him, the sense of power he had moments ago quickly diminishing as he looked into Frank’s eyes.  
But, Frank grabbed his hand before he could move another centimeter away. In seconds, Gerard was pressed back up against Frank. Gerard looked puzzled. “I’m sor…” Gerard attempted to say before Frank had grabbed a fistful of his hair and drug his head down to meet Frank’s.  
Frank smashed his lips to Gerard’s, pulling on his hair to kiss him deeper, harder. Gerard went limp after a moment, his hands finding their place on Frank’s hips, a sob leaving the back of his throat as he kissed Frank back intensely.   
Frank’s tongue found entrance to Gerard’s mouth quickly, his hands grazing the back of the other man’s head and neck, kneading and rubbing at the skin he could reach.   
Gerard couldn’t control the light sobs that were leaving his throat; he couldn’t quite tell where they were coming from, whether it be relief, confusion, sadness or all of the above.   
Too soon, Frank detached his lips from Gerard’s and held his head firmly in front of his own. Frank stared into his eyes, deadly serious and searching for answers.  
“What do you want, Gerard?” He questioned again.  
Gerard didn’t hesitate this time when he said “I want you to stay.”


	22. Pretty Handsome Awkward

“So…” Gerard mumbled into the silence. He and Frank had made their way, awkwardly I might add, to the living room. They were sat next to each other, eyes averted forward to ward off any uncomfortable eye contact.   
“So…” Frank repeated, fishing for words to say.   
“So…you’re gay? Why didn’t you tell me?” Gerard inquired. It was the first question that popped into his head, among the many. He figured he should start at the beginning.  
Frank snickered and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, contemplative. “I haven’t told anyone. No one knew but Mikey.” He sighed. “I don’t even know if I am gay.”   
“Oh.” Gerard replied in realization, voice small. So Frank wasn’t gay. That was just a heat of the moment kind of thing, Gerard gauged.  
“No, no. I don’t mean that. I definitely like guys.” Frank retracted with a laugh, practically reading Gerard’s mind. “I just don’t know if I’m gay, or bi or pan or…” Frank groaned. “I don’t know.”   
“Mikey never told me.” Gerard said, thoughtful. “Mikey told me everything.”   
Frank nodded, understanding. “You were the first person he mentioned when I told him. He thought you could help, but I wasn’t ready. I asked him not to.” Gerard understood, having felt similarly when he told Mikey he was gay for the first time.  
“Well, if it helps any, I was confused at first, too.” Gerard admitted. “I realized I was gay around sixteen, but I wasn’t able to come to terms with it until later.”   
Frank shifted in his seat, picking at the hem of his shirt. “How did you know for sure?” Frank asked.  
Gerard thought about that for a moment, waiting for some memory of a life changing realization to pop into his head, but there was none. “I just knew.” He said simply. “There was no a-ha moment or light bulb that went off, I just…knew.”   
Frank grumbled, frustrated. He wished it could be that simple. He wanted to just know that he was something. Sure, he had dated girls and that was nice. He had kissed a guy or two and that was nice, too, but nothing was ever black and white with Frank.  
He could never seem to make a distinction or a preference, and now he was constantly second guessing himself and what he was. Instead, he chose to ignore it and decidedly not take any interest in anyone.   
That was easier said than done, apparently, because he had shoved his tongue into Gerard’s mouth about a half an hour ago. Yeah, that was going really well. Frank rolled his eyes internally.  
“It’s ok, Frank. You don’t have to know now. You don’t have to know ever. One day you’ll meet someone and you’ll fall in love and a label won’t even matter.” Gerard said confidently. He chanced a hand on Frank’s knee, to still it from shaking.   
Frank stopped bouncing, and Gerard felt Frank place his hand tentatively on top of his own.   
“This is really bad timing, isn’t it?” Frank said finally, tapping his fingers on Gerard’s hand. “Me kissing you right after your brother’s funeral.” He clarified.   
“I didn’t exactly stop you.” Gerard replied. “What do you think Mikey would say?” He asked, curiously.   
Frank laughed, truly laughed and clutched Gerard’s hand in his. “Mikey would laugh and then say I told you so.” He confessed.  
Gerard gave him a questioning look before deciding to let it go; Mikey was an enigma and Gerard just couldn’t be bothered to put the puzzle pieces together right now, not with Frank looking at him so innocently. He pulled him in for a tight hug and burrowed his head in the crook of Frank’s tattooed neck, reveling in the feeling of being hugged back strongly.


	23. The Perfect Sky is Torn

“I think it looks nice there.” Frank was staring up intently at the placement of Mikey’s ashes. Gerard had been puttering throughout the house all morning, trying to find the perfect spot to put the box. Currently, it was atop the mantle overlooking the living room.   
Gerard made a grumbling noise and continued to fumble with its angle. “Don’t you think he’d rather be in his room?” He questioned, frustrated.   
“Mmmm…” Frank buzzed, thinking. “No. I think he would want to be out in the open, see everyone.” Frank decided. Gerard hummed in agreement.   
“I guess it’s good for now.” Gerard said, and took his hands off of the box, wiping them on his pants.   
“Whatcha mean for now?” Frank questioned casually, plopping down on the couch.   
“Got this in the mail a few days ago.” Gerard sighed and picked through the stack of papers on the coffee table, pulling a yellow sheet with red lettering on it.   
Frank eyed it carefully. “Shit. Foreclosure?”   
Gerard raised his eyebrows, and nodded. “Yep.” He said curtly. “Apparently mom was running from more than just Mikey.”   
“I’m so sorry, Gee.” Frank said sympathetically. “What are you going to do?”  
Gerard shrugged in response. He really, really didn’t know. “I don’t know. I don’t have a job anymore. I just wish she had told me, I could have helped.”   
Not that he could have helped much, with only starting out after college and a monthly student loan bill that would pretty much ensure he would be forever indebted to the government. Still, Gerard would have done something. Gotten a second job, worked overtime, something.  
He couldn’t stand the thought of losing his childhood home, but unfortunately now it was a reality. His mom had no intention of coming home anytime soon, or of making Gerard aware of the impending foreclosure.   
“How much time do you have?” Frank questioned, eyeing the letter carefully for important dates and information.  
“If I don’t come up with $4,200? A Month.” Gerard sighed. He hadn’t forgotten about the box under Mikey’s bed with what was essentially his life savings in it. Gerard knew it would probably cover the expense, but he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that Mikey hadn’t meant the money to be used for that.  
In fact, Mikey would probably scold him for worrying about the house at all. It was old, creaky and in need of repairs. Sure, they had spent their entire lives in this house, but that’s all it was – a house. Gerard knew in his heart that Mikey would tell him to let it go, though for Gerard it wasn’t that simple.  
Frank contemplated the situation for a moment, scratching at his head, and then it hit him. “I’ll be right back.” He said quickly, subsequently jumping from his seat. Gerard looked at him bewilderingly as he walked through the living room, through the kitchen and out the back door.   
“Ok…” Gerard uttered to himself, not having a chance to reply to Frank before he bolted from the room.

“My son!” Frank Sr. answered the phone boisterously.   
“Hi Papà.” Frank smiled into the phone when his father answered.   
“How is my boy doing?” He questioned.  
“I’m doing well, how are you?” Frank asked, awaiting a long winded response consisting of a synopsis of the neighborhood. And he wasn’t disappointed.

“Really, that big? A mastiff? Wow, that must be something.” Frank said with a laugh after a few minutes. His father was going on about the neighbors’ new dog and the gigantic defecations it has been leaving on the lawn.   
Frank always loved his father’s stories, from the time he was a little kid, he could get lost in listening to his dad talk. From the slight remainder of his Italian accent, to the hand gestures that Frank had undoubtedly picked up from him, his stories were always a welcomed indulgence.   
“Anyway, enough about me. How is your schoolwork? I miss you, son.” Frank Sr. stated.  
“School is good, I miss you too. That’s actually what I was calling about.” And here came the hard part, Frank gritted his teeth and made a pained face, glad his father couldn’t see him cringing when he asked.   
“You know how expensive it is to live in the dorms, papà. And there are always parties, it’s hard to concentrate on my studies.” Frank said. It was somewhat true, the dorms were incredibly expensive, almost $900 a month to live in a 400 square foot dorm shared with another person. But, that was college for you, Frank guessed.   
And it was loud, but Frank was usually partying with them, it wasn’t hard to study because Frank didn’t exactly concentrate on anything.  
“I don’t like those dorms, Frankie. You should come home, drive to school.” His father said, his accent showing thickly when he said his name.  
“I thought about that, papà, but I thought it would be a better idea if I got to know what it was like on my own for a bit, you know before I finish college and have to go out into the real world. Learn how to take care of myself.” Frank answered.  
“My son. Always planning for the future.” His father commended lovingly.   
Frank laughed into the phone. “I have a friend who could rent me a room cheaper than the dorms, and it would be quiet and perfect for studying.”   
“Who is this friend? Is he a good person?” Frank Sr. interrogated.  
“Yes, papà, he’s an accountant. He was…is Mikey’s older brother, Gerard.” Frank stumbled over his words; he hadn’t told his parent’s about Mikey’s passing yet. He knew it would elicit a thousand questions, and in turn make his parent’s worry about him, or worse, make him move back home in fear that he too would hurt himself.   
But his father didn’t seem to notice the slip up; humming in thought.   
“Ok, son. I trust you.” He agreed.   
“Thank you, papà. It’s ok if I pay for the rent up front?” Frank questioned with a cringe, he hated talking about money.  
“On one condition.” Frank Sr. required. “You must come visit us soon; your mother is missing you.”   
“Of course. As soon as finals are over.” Frank smiled again. “I love you.”  
“Ti amo troppo, addio mio figlio.” His father said.  
“Ciao, papà.”


	24. You Are The Only Exception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be uploading a chapter tomorrow, unfortunately, I won't have enough time to write and edit one. And that's becaussseeee...I'm seeing Frank Iero and The Patience tonight! 
> 
> I'm so excited!

“Frank, I can’t accept this.” Gerard retorted, handing the check back to Frank instantly. It was too much money, too soon, too generous. He couldn’t.  
“Yes you can, Gee. It’s rent, I’m not handing you anything, and this isn’t charity. I’m paying you what I owe you.” Frank replied, confidently.  
“But, Frank…I.” Gerard stuttered.  
“Gerard. Take it, please.” Frank said earnestly, closing Gerard’s fist around the check. “Unless you don’t want me to stay?”  
“You know that’s not it, Frank. I like having you around; I like feeling like I have friends.”  
Gerard said simply, as if there was nothing wrong with that statement. Frank knew that couldn’t be farther from the truth, however. Gerard was his friend, even if he didn’t understand it.  
“Gerard, how many times do I have to tell you that I am your friend?” Frank replied, sounding frustrated.  
“I’m sorry, it’s just…hard to believe sometimes, you know? That someone would want to be my friend without having ulterior motives, I guess.” Gerard replied, mumbling a bit.  
He felt somewhat ashamed that this was the truth; the friends he had in the past were never really friends at all. They came and went up until he was abut fifteen, and then he started changing.  
He struggled with his sexuality and with coming to terms with who he was, and because of that he shut in on himself; isolating himself in the basement and brooding.  
The friends he had didn’t understand, and eventually just stopped hanging out with him. Since that point, Gerard didn’t bother making new friends, he just confided in Mikey and kept to himself. Believing that someone would still want to be his friend after years of self-loathing and self-reliance was a little more than difficult.  
“What happened, Gee? Who fucked you over that bad?” Frank asked, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.  
Gerard sighed. “I don’t know, Frank. No one. I just don’t trust people, I guess.”  
“Do you trust me?” Frank questioned, looking at Gerard keenly.  
Gerard nodded after a silent moment, realization dawning on him that he did, in fact, trust Frank. Probably more than anyone else other than Mikey.  
The fact that it was so soon after their becoming friends was not lost on Gerard, and it concerned him, but he had to admit that he trusted Frank, even if he wasn’t quite sure when that had happened.  
“Then take the check, Gee.” 

Getting Gerard to the bank to cash the check was like pulling teeth.  
Frank understood, he guessed that he would be wary about taking a large sum of money from a new friend. But, still, Gerard fussing the entire car ride there was getting just a little bit annoying.  
“Where are you even going to sleep?” Gerard interrogated tediously.  
“I don’t know. Who cares? I didn’t think about it.” Frank replied, waving his hands as the car came to a stop out front of the bank.  
Gerard grumbled and got out of the car, an uncomfortably fake smile plastered on his face. Frank elbowed him playfully and held the door open for him.  
“Can I help you?” A mousy teller behind glass questioned as they walked in.  
“Uh, I need to make a payment on a mortgage.” Gerard answered unsurely. He slipped the check along with his ID into the slot.  
She was more than enough exuberant for Gerard’s’ liking. “Sure, do you have an account number?”  
“Shit.” Gerard grumbled, starting to panic. “I didn’t bring the paper.”  
The woman started typing away. “That’s ok; I can look it up by your name?”  
“It’s not in my name; it’s my mom’s actually.” He sighed, frustrated.  
She pondered for a moment. “Do you have the property address?”  
“2702 Windsor Ave., Belleville New Jersey.” She took a moment to type the address, smiling when she found it.  
“Donna Way?”  
Gerard nodded and pushed the check forward more. She slid it into the teller machine, it mutedly scanning as Gerard waited nervously.  
“Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Way?” She asked, handing him the slip of paper that said ‘PAID’.  
“Can you tell me if that was everything I needed to pay? Are we paid up to this month?”  
“Unfortunately, I can’t give you much information since you aren’t on the loan, but per my system that should have taken care of any past due balance.” She smiled.  
“Thank you.” He muttered, relieved, and headed for the door quickly.  
Frank barely made it out the door behind him before Gerard grasped him and pulled him near, clutching his shoulders tightly. Frank hugged him back; happy he could help his friend. Gerard then placed a gentle kiss on Frank’s cheek, next to his ear followed by a whispered ‘thank you’.  
He tried to ignore the way his heart trembled when Gerard let him go.


	25. Imagine If This All Came Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lapse in Chapter posting yesterday, I was beat!
> 
> But FIATP was FUCKING AWESOME, as usual.
> 
> Can't wait to see them again. :)

Gerard and Frank were sitting on the couch casually two days later; they had just finished eating pizza for dinner, again, and were now setting into a comfortable food coma.  
Frank had been borrowing Gerard’s shirts and pants and they were noticeably too large for him. He looked kind of funny, sitting there in a too big t-shirt, stuffing pizza into his face.  
He kind of looked like a little kid. A kid with a lot of tattoos.  
“So when are you going to get your stuff from the dorm?” Gerard questioned.   
Frank shifted uncomfortably in his seat and sighed. “I don’t know.” Gerard considered him inquisitively before silently asking him to elaborate with his eyes.  
“It’s James, my roommate. We’re pretty good friends, well we were, but I haven’t exactly been hanging out with him lately, not to mention that I’ve been keeping my sexuality a secret from him and he knows I have some big secret, and he keeps bugging me about it and just…ugh….” Frank groaned and started to tug at the edge of his shirt.   
Gerard noticed Frank did that when he was nervous or uncomfortable. It was cute, but it explained why most of his shirts were frayed at the hem, and if Frank didn’t get his own clothes back soon, all Gerard’s shirts would be too.  
“I’m sure he’ll understand, Frank. He knows you’ve been through a lot. And you have no obligation to tell him about your sexuality, you’ll tell him when you’re ready. If he’s a good friend, he’ll be okay with that.” Gerard finished; a sympathetic smile on his face.  
Frank laid down sideways on the couch, put his head in Gerard’s lap and exhaled. “How could anyone be crazy enough to not hold on to you as a friend? You always know the right thing to say.”   
Gerard laughed and Frank’s head bounced up and down with the motion, making him giggle as well. “I can’t say I’ve really ever given anyone much of a chance to get close enough to find out, I guess.”   
Frank just smiled up at him. He may have been imagining what it would be like to be Gerard’s friend under normal circumstances.  
Hanging out, going to parties, making fun of each other and texting each other pictures from the internet. “We need to get you a new phone.” He said decidedly.  
“Phones cost money.” Gerard countered.  
Frank hummed in thought. “We need to get you a new job, then.”   
Gerard shut his eyes and grimaced. “But my entire work portfolio with my school transcript, resumes and everything else I need is all in my desk at my old job. It’ll take me weeks to get new transcripts at least, and a few days to write up a new resume.” Gerard grumbled, irritated.   
Frank just shrugged. “So let’s go get it then, it’s your property, they can’t keep it.”  
Frank said it like it was nothing, like he would just waltz in and pick up the items he had left there before he stopped showing up. Like Gerard wasn’t awkward and embarrassed enough.  
“Oh don’t give me that look.” Frank said playfully. Gerard hadn’t realized he was making a face. “I’ll go with you, don’t worry about it.”   
Gerard laughed again. “What, are you like my muscle now?” Frank rolled his eyes and decided to play along. “Sure am, Gee. I’m the bodyguard, anyone who wants to fuck with you has gotta go through me.” Frank made a fist and pounded it into his other hand mockingly.  
“Your Italian is showing.” He teased. “Besides, you’re like four feet tall, what are you gonna do?” Frank slapped Gerard’s side in offence.   
“I’ll slice em.” He replied, now making a jabbing motion with his left arm as though he was stabbing someone and smiling manically. “Shank ‘em real good.”   
“You’d do well in prison.” Gerard giggled. “You’re a fucking sadist.”   
Frank stopped envisioning stabbing someone and turned over to face Gerard. He sat up and placed his mouth next to Gerard’s ear and just let his breath linger there for a moment before whispering “Wouldn’t you like to find out?”  
And then he was gone. Skipping off to who knows where, Gerard couldn’t be bothered to check. He could faintly hear him humming in the distance, probably from the bathroom or the kitchen.  
Mostly, all Gerard could hear was the blood rushing to his face, crashing in waves like an ocean; he was positive that his cheeks had to be beet red. He quickly rubbed at his face and shook his head, trying to clear the fog before Frank came back.   
“I’ll go get my stuff if you come with me!” Gerard heard Frank yell from the other room.   
“Right now?” Gerard yelled back in question.  
“Mmhm.” Frank replied, now standing in the doorway.  
‘Asshole.’ He muttered under his breath and heaved a sigh before getting up and following Frank out.


	26. Life is a Riddle and I'm Really Stumped

“I always pictured college dorms to be different.” Gerard noted as they paced through the brightly lit hallway.  
There were posters announcing charity events and social clubs littering the walls; doors decorated to announce the occupants of the room. Everything seemed so much cleaner than Gerard anticipated.  
“How so?” Frank questioned with a laugh.  
“Dunno. More drunk people passed out in the hallway? A haze of pot smoke?” Gerard laughed. “This kind of just seems like a block of apartments.”  
“You’ve seen too many movies, Gee.” Frank giggled as he unlocked the door to his dorm. Gerard noticed that his door was particularly plain compared to some of the others.  
“Frank?” James called from a lump on his bed as Frank made his way inside, Gerard on his tail.  
“Hey…” Frank cringed, awaiting the inevitable interrogation. He quickly grabbed a duffle bag from under his desk and sat it on the bed, throwing items from his nightstand inside.  
“The hell have you been, man?” James questioned, standing up to shoot Frank a glare.   
“Just Gerard’s house.” Frank shrugged. James watched in question as Frank started gathering clothes from around the room, Gerard standing awkwardly in the doorway.   
“Just Gerard’s house.” James said dryly. “You haven’t been to class in days, either.”   
“You don’t know that.” Frank spat back defensively. James shook his head and pointed to the stack of books on Frank’s dresser. “Fine, so I haven’t been to class. So what?”   
“So what?” James rose his voice and stood tall in front of Frank. “What the fuck is going on, Frank?”   
Frank shrunk in on himself, stuffing a bag full of clothes and other valuables. He shrugged again, at a loss for words.   
“So now you won’t even talk to me?” James shouted.   
Frank turned to face him, but could only bring himself to frown and avert his eyes to the ground. “I don’t know what you want me to say, James.”  
James crossed his arms over his chest. “I want you to tell me the truth.”   
Frank zipped his bag closed and heaved it onto his shoulder. “I can’t.” He muttered sadly and pushed his way past James on his way out the door.   
Gerard was left bewildered and uncomfortable in the doorway, eyes locked with an angry James.   
“I…I’m sorry.” He mumbled out, before chasing after Frank down the hallway, he heard the door slam shut behind him.

“Frank!” Gerard called after him, jogging to catch up to his pace. For someone with a short stature, Frank could quickly cover some distance if he wanted to. “Frank.” Gerard said, out of breath once he got close to him.  
Frank stopped walking and huffed out a sigh, Gerard panting next to him. “Are you alright?” Gerard questioned, placing a hand on his shoulder.  
Frank shrugged it off harshly. “Peachy.” He responded shortly, and kept walking to the car, leaving Gerard puzzled for the second time tonight.


	27. Dreamers, They Never Learn

Frank shoved the door open harshly, startling Gerard as he entered the house behind him. He hadn’t spoken a word on the drive home, just huffed and puffed while chewing on his thumbnail.  
He headed straight for the basement, throwing his bag down on the floor and landing face first on Gerard’s bed, back rising and falling with each angry breath he took.  
“Hey…” Gerard muttered from the doorway a few seconds later, observing Frank dejectedly.   
“Hnnng.” Frank groaned from his place on the bed, unmoving still.  
Gerard went and sat beside him, Frank’s body dipping towards him with the shift on the bed. He sighed, and sat up, settling himself next to his friend.  
“He cares about you.” Gerard declared. “He’s just frustrated.”   
Frank grumbled at that, clearing his throat and tugging at the hem of his, Gerard’s, shirt.   
“Stop that.” Gerard laughed and playfully slapped Frank’s hand away. “That’s my shirt.”   
“Sorry. Forgot.” Frank sighed sadly; he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Gerard frowned and pulled him in for a hug.  
“I know it’s hard.” He said into Frank’s dark hair. He rubbed at his shoulder comfortingly, running his thumb along the seam of his t-shirt.   
“It’s not that I don’t want to be honest with him.” Frank mumbled into Gerard’s chest as he clutched him tightly.  
“Are you afraid he won’t accept you?” Gerard questioned.  
Frank pondered that for a moment before shaking his head. “No.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”  
They sat there for a few minutes, Gerard rubbing Frank’s back soothingly, and Frank considering his options.   
“Can we just go to sleep?” Frank asked after a little while. Gerard nodded his head and released Frank from his arms.   
Frank stood from the bed and started digging through his bag while Gerard took a pair of pajama pants into the bathroom.   
“Hey Gee?” Frank called from the other side of the door.  
“Mmm?” He answered in question.   
“Is it ok if I sleep on the couch tonight? The floor is kind of hurting my back.”   
The room was silent for a moment, and Frank started to worry that maybe he had made Gerard uncomfortable. Instead, Gerard emerged from the bathroom, throwing his dirty clothes into the laundry basket and eyeing Frank curiously.  
“Do you, um, do you want to sleep in my bed?” He muttered.  
“What, like, with you?” Frank asked awkwardly.   
Gerard just shrugged and nodded his head. “There’s enough room. I just thought, you know, it might be more comfortable.” Gerard cleared his throat. “For your back.”  
“For my back.” Frank repeated. He pulled off his shoes and sat on the bed, pulling the covers back neatly.  
Gerard settled next to him, and they both laid down in silence.  
It took a moment for Gerard to shift comfortably without feeling like he would wind up groping Frank in his sleep, but once he did he felt his eyelids fall heavily closed.  
“Thank you for going with me tonight, Gee.” Frank said as Gerard was drifting off to sleep. “Goodnight.”  
“Goodnight, Frankie.”   
_Frankie_ He thought. No one but his great grandmother ever called him Frankie, but yet it sounded so fucking good coming from Gerard’s lips.  
Frank dreamt of Gerard that night.


	28. Someone I Love Threw Me Away

When Frank woke in the morning, the bed was cold.   
Throughout the night Frank had awoken at different intervals to find himself pressed up against Gerard; a knee in someone’s back or a hand resting on someone’s side.   
Frank would quickly reposition himself and hope that Gerard hadn’t woken up while he fumbled around trying to put some semblance of space between them.   
It was awkward, sure, but Frank couldn’t help but notice how it felt like there was simply too much empty space now that he was in bed alone.   
He couldn’t tell what time it was, only that he it was early. There was a steady stream of light shining in through the small basement window, lighting up a square on the floor in front of the doorway.   
Frank rubbed at his eyes and tore himself from the bed in search of Gerard or food, preferably both.   
He hastily grabbed a pair of jeans and changed out of the sweats he had been wearing for two days before making his way tiredly up the basement stairs.   
The house was quiet, almost eerily so, and when Frank searched the kitchen, living room and dining room, he knew there was only one place Gerard would have to be – upstairs.  
His car was still parked in the driveway, seemingly not moved at all since the night before. Frank puttered in the entry way for a moment, building up some courage to go up the same steps that he and Mikey drunkenly stumbled on not more than three weeks earlier.  
Frank exhaled and carefully climbed the creaky stairs, hand held tightly on the railing as if he would fall should he let go. Maybe Gerard was using the upstairs bathroom, or maybe he was in his mom’s room looking for something.  
“Gee?” Frank called weakly, his voice still sleep warn. He heard a sniffle coming from down the hallway, and then shuffling coming from Mikey’s room.   
“In here. Hold on, I’ll come out. You don’t have to come in.” Gerard said hurriedly.   
Frank continued on the path down the hallway, towards the bedroom door on the right. Just as Gerard emerged, Frank nearly walked into him. “Sorry.” Frank uttered. “It’s ok, I can do it.”   
Gerard eyed him curiously before moving from the entryway, allowing Frank to take a few steps in the door. He just kind of stood there for a moment and scanned the room, taking in all the little details.   
The hoodie hanging haphazardly on the back of Mikey’s desk chair, the stack of comic books next to his bed – one clearly closed on a bookmark meaning that he intended to finish it, but never got the chance.   
There were posters on the walls, the same ones that had been there throughout high school, ones that Frank distinctly remembers staring at aimlessly while he and Mikey talked about life.   
There were DVD cases strewn next to his old box television, a DVD player with cords hanging around the front without care; his X-Box, the controller still sitting on the night table next to his bed so that he could play it when he got home from class.  
Everything was so distinctly _Mikey_ that it was almost painful to look at. It even still _smelled_ like Mikey; a mixture of books and cheap body spray, fabric softener and cigarette smoke.  
Gerard must have noticed Frank staring, because he clutched his hand a few moments later, a light squeeze in his grip that grounded Frank back to the Earth.   
“I thought it would be painful.” Gerard spoke quietly. “Coming in here, being surrounded by him; and it is…somewhat. But, mostly…mostly I just feel comforted.” Gerard sighed, still standing in the doorway next to Frank, fingers still wrapped tightly around his. “I wish I had come in here sooner.”   
Frank nodded, trying not to be overcome with his emotions. He allowed Gerard to lead him to Mikey’s bed, sitting down carefully on the grey coverlet.   
“So, what were you doing in here?” Frank questioned, finally.   
Gerard shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. I just…felt like I should come up now.” He cocked a smile while looking around the room. “I’ve just been sitting here like this.”   
Frank seemed to understand, and allowed the silence to linger.   
There was no tension in the air, just peace and quiet. There were birds chirping outside, and the sound of leaves rustling on the ground.   
It felt calm, some facade of normality and a metaphor for hope, Frank thought.   
A week ago he thought that neither of them would ever be able to step foot in Mikey’s room again, yet here they were, silently pondering their own existence, and possibly each other’s.  
Maybe, things would get better. Maybe, they could move past this – one day.


	29. I'd Photocopy all The Things We Could Be

“What’s the plan again?” Gerard asked, the nervousness breaking through his voice.  
“We just go in there; you tell the receptionist that you need to pick up personal items from your desk. That’s all. I’ll be right there with you in case they give you any shit.” Frank replied confidently and offered Gerard a shy smile.  
Gerard groaned, but unbuckled his seatbelt nonetheless. “They probably hate me, I just stopped showing up.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose in frustration.  
Frank shook his head. “You told your boss what happened, I’m sure they understand.”   
He followed Gerard to the front door, stopping tentatively in front of the building only when Gerard did. The office was well lit and quiet, but fairly casual compared to what Frank expected. Gerard quietly walked up to the receptionist, clearing his throat when she didn’t notice them.  
“Oh, hello. What can I help you with?” She questioned, placing her pen down on the desk.  
“I, uh. I’m Gerard Way. I used to work here; I was hoping I could…” Gerard was abruptly cut off by a pat on the shoulder by a tall man. He greeted them with a smile and reached out his hand for Gerard to take.   
“Gerard! It’s so good to see you, how are you?” He asked, waving the receptionist off and she went back to her paperwork quietly.  
“I’m alright.” Gerard shook his hand lightly as Frank watched from his side. He saw Gerard anxiously shift on his feet and avert his eyes to the ground as he let go of the man’s hand.  
“Who’s this?” He questioned, outstretching a hand to Frank which he took firmly.   
“I’m Frank, Gerard’s friend.”   
“Pleasure to meet you, Frank. I’m Brian.” He smiled before continuing. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.” He said sadly. “There’s no rush, you know.”  
Gerard eyed his feet confusedly and sighed. “I just, uh, came to get my stuff…if that’s ok.”   
“Your stuff?” He questioned. “Are you not coming back?”  
Gerard made a face, still looking towards the ground. A few seconds passed with Gerard trying not to choke on his own words. Frank elbowed him lightly, bringing him out of his internal panic.  
“Uh, I didn’t think I still had a job here.”   
The taller man chuckled boisterously, and patted Gerard heavily on the shoulder again, making him shift forward a step. “When you’re ready, you have a job here, Gerard.”   
“Really?” Gerard questioned, unbelievably. Brian nodded with a smile.   
“I tried calling you last week but I couldn’t get through.” Gerard huffed a sigh at that, still somewhat frustrated that his phone had been shut off.  
“Yeah…I, uh, need a new phone.” He shrugged softly, embarrassed, though Frank saw no reason he should be.  
“Well, you’re welcome back here anytime. Just call me when you’re ready. You’re a good accountant, Gerard; we have no reason not to want you here.” Brian declared earnestly.   
Gerard smiled and gaped at him, seemingly at a loss for words.   
“Thank you.” Frank said for him, and Gerard quickly nodded in agreement.   
“Well, I need to get back. I’ll see you, ok? If you need anything, I’m here. It was nice to meet you Frank.” Brian said finally and headed off into a back room leaving Gerard dumbfounded and relieved.  
“Come on, Gee.” Frank said, smiling. He led him back to the car where Gerard let out a loud exhale.   
“What a fucking relief, Frank, you have no idea.” He said, resting his head back on the seat.  
“I told you everything would be ok, right? And things turned out even better than ok.” Frank smiled at him happily. “When do you think you’ll go back?”   
“Well, it’s Monday. Maybe next Monday?” He replied, eyes closed thoughtfully.  
Frank nodded. “If you’re ready.”  
“I need the distraction and the money, and you have to go back to class.” Gerard said, nearly scolding and an eyebrow raised.   
Frank waved him off and started the car. “Yeah, yeah. We better make the best of this week then, huh?”  
Gerard nodded with a smile. “Hell yeah.”


	30. This is a Crooked Path

“We are really bad at this whole ‘living it up’ thing.” Frank commented next to Gerard on the couch.   
Gerard shrugged. “I think you have to have money to have any fun.”   
Frank grumbled and flopped backwards on the couch, his head laying on the armrest and legs digging into Gerard’s side. “I’m boooorreedd.”   
“Oh my god, Frank.” Gerard sighed back shoving a rogue knee away from his side. “I’m sorry I can’t keep you entertained.”  
Frank wiggled around a bit, just to be as annoying as humanly possible. He kneed Gerard another two times, almost kicking him in the face at least once. Gerard finally settled on grabbing Frank’s feet and holding them still in his lap.   
Gerard’s hand landed on the skin of Frank’s ankle, under his jeans, revealing more black ink that Gerard tried to eye curiously without being suspicious while holding him still.  
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Frank mocked with an eye roll.  
Gerard’s face went positively red at that and he quickly removed his hand, putting it as far away from Frank’s ankle as possible.  
Frank laughed. “I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t have gotten tattoos if I didn’t want people to look at them.” Frank lifted his pant leg slightly to reveal the tattoo to Gerard.  
“How many do you have?” He questioned.  
Frank pondered that for a minute before shrugging. “Lost count around 25.”   
Gerard was wide eyed. “Didn’t it hurt?”  
Frank shook his head. “Some of them, sure. It’s not that bad though. Do you want any tattoos?”   
“I love them, but I’m terrified of needles.” Gerard cringed at the thought, a needle repeatedly piercing his skin.  
“You wanna see them?” Frank asked, but didn’t wait for so much as a nod of Gerard’s head before he was pulling his shirt off.  
Gerard wasn’t quite prepared for just _how many_ tattoos Frank had on his body, but he wasn’t disappointed. They suited his olive skin perfectly, the swallows on his hipbones framing his figure perfectly.  
But, Gerard didn’t notice that at all, no. Not that he would admit anyway.  
“Jesus, Frank.” Was all that Gerard could muster.  
“I got this one first.” He said and turned around, pointing over his shoulder to the jack-o-lantern in between his shoulder blades. “On my 18th birthday."  
“Why a pumpkin?” Gerard questioned.  
“Because my birthday’s on Halloween.”  
Gerard squinted his eyes, doing mental math in his head. “What the hell Frank, your birthday is in like three days!”   
Frank nodded and laughed. “Yeah, so it is.”   
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gerard shrieked unbelievably.   
Frank shrugged. “It wasn’t important.”   
It wasn’t, not to Frank anyway. Not without Mikey. Not anymore.  
“How old are you going to be?” Gerard questioned still.  
“21.” Frank replied shyly.  
“Frank! That’s such a huge deal!” Gerard yelled and smacked his naked back playfully.  
Frank yelped. “Ow! That fucking hurt, Gerard.”  
“We have to do something.” Gerard declared absolutely.   
“You really don’t…” Gerard cut Frank off with another slap.  
“Not another word. We’re doing something. Now sit.” Gerard pointed back down to the couch and Frank obliged, rather quickly as Gerard noticed.  
So, Gerard may not have known _what_ they were going to do for Frank’s birthday, but he would be damned if he would let Frank sit here and mope.  
For everything Frank had done, he deserved to have a hell of a birthday and more. Gerard might only have a few hundred dollars left between credit cards and pocket change, but he planned to make it stretch as far as possible and give Frank the birthday he deserved.


	31. Narrow Streets of Cobblestone

“Can’t you even let me know how far we’re going?” Frank whined from the passenger seat.  
“Nope.” Gerard answered irreverently with a smile. Frank grumbled, as he had been for the past fifteen minutes. Gerard could see the excited smile on his face behind the ruse, however.  
“How long will it take to get there?” He questioned.  
Gerard shook his head. “Shut. Up. Frank.”   
Frank sighed with exasperation. “Fine.”   
He shut his eyes and laid his head back on the seat. He was too excited to doze off, but at least he could get lost in the music playing through the stereo. Meanwhile, Gerard was carefully following the green road signs for the Garden State Parkway.

He hadn’t told Frank much about the trip, only to be prepared for a two hour drive and be dressed decently. Frank nearly jumped out of his skin with excitement, the possibilities of where they were headed driving him mad.   
Gerard hoped that Frank would be surprised, would be happy. He deserved so much, but Gerard could only give him so little.   
It took them a little over two hours for them to arrive in the parking lot of well-lit and crowded building. There were people in suits smoking cigarettes in the foyer of the lobby that Frank could see from the window of the car.  
Gerard signaled for him to get out, and a valet handed Gerard a ticket before pulling away with his car.   
“Where are we?” Frank asked, eyes darting from the brass embellishments on the doors to the cocktail waitresses strutting about through them.  
Gerard led him inside and smiled. “The best casino and bar in Atlantic City.”   
Frank was speechless, breathing in the smoky air and smell of alcohol with a grin. There were people everywhere, some gambling on the casino floor, some walking around with fancy looking cocktails, some chatting near the black jack tables.  
“Holy shit, Gee. This is awesome!” Frank nudged him with his elbow playfully towards the bar. 

Gerard quickly found out that buying Frank a few drinks and letting him loose in a casino was like taking a child to an amusement park.   
It was a little difficult to keep up with him, what with Frank running between machines and tables without ever stopping to really figure out how to play any of them.  
He would stick a nickel into a machine and pull the lever, sometimes winning a few dollars back but mostly being met with just flashing lights signaling him to try again. He took a particular interest in the poker games, liking to just watch the other players’ stone faced and betting thousands of dollars a hand.   
Gerard followed him around the floor, always staying on his trail for fear he would get lost in the shuffle of the crowd. With no cell phone to call him, Gerard would surely lose Frank in a sea of people forever to become a permanent fixture of the casino.  
Needless to say, Frank was enthralled by it all.   
Hours later and at least a hundred dollars poured into various alcoholic drinks, Frank was smashed and nearly passing out on Gerard’s shoulder.   
Gerard had paced himself, resisting the call of the bar to keep an eye on Frank. This was _his_ birthday after all.   
They both just about made it to the car, not more than thirty feet from the door where Gerard carefully placed Frank in the passenger seat and tipped the valet.   
Frank’s head lulled from side to side, resting on the leather headrest. He smiled at Gerard, a cheekily lazy smile that shouted _’I’m drunk’_.   
“Geeee.” Frank drawled out the word.  
“Yes, Frank?” He teased him back.  
“Am drunkkk…” Frank mumbled.  
Gerard shook his head and laughed. “You certainly are. “  
Frank seemed to agree again, humming his approval before curling up sideways on the seat, the seatbelt seemingly digging into his neck, but he didn’t care. “Besss bir-birthday evrrr…” And he was out like a light.


	32. Whose Smiles Could Cut Me

“Oh. My. God.” Frank groaned into his hands. His face was scrunched up in between his cupped palms, nose pressing uncomfortably into his fingers. “I feel like death.”  
Gerard just laughed and passed him a cup of coffee. “I bet.”   
Frank didn’t even waste time pouring in sugar or milk, guzzling the coffee down with one swift swallow. “Dude, that was incredible, though. I mean, I might feel like shit, but…” Frank smiled a hazy smile at Gerard.  
He nodded back with a smile, filling Frank’s cup full of coffee again. “Glad you enjoyed it.”   
“What gave you the idea?” Frank asked, nodding a thank you for the coffee before sipping this one a bit slower.  
Gerard shrugged. “It just seemed like the best place to hit all of your ‘21’ milestones at once. Drinking, gambling, you know. Plus I had never been there, I thought maybe we could both use some time away from this place.”  
Frank hummed in agreement. “It was a great idea.” He smiled. “Thank you, Gee.”

 

The rest of the day was spent getting Frank to sober up. A cold shower, plenty of coffee and bad movies seemed to do the trick. He was thinking much more clearly now that he and Gerard were sitting on the couch comfortably.   
He didn’t know how to say it, how to ask, but he knew he wanted to. He wanted to more than anything, that he was sure of now.  
But he was scared, rightfully so. This was his home now, and the last thing Frank wanted was for things to become weird between them should Gerard say no.  
What if it ruined their friendship? Frank wasn’t good with close friends, the only one he ever had was Mikey, and now that Gerard was filling that role, he was terrified to lose him.  
He wasn’t sure when that had happened, the two of them becoming so close, but Frank was glad it had. At this point it felt like they had known each other for years, not just over a month.   
Frank had felt that with Mikey too, the instant closeness and trust.   
But something was different this time, with Gerard. Frank felt the same…but in some ways so different. Frank got butterflies in his stomach when Gerard would look at him a certain way. He would feel nervous around him out of the blue, and despite his façade, Gerard seemed to totally throw him off of his game.  
He wanted to ask, he had to ask. But he didn’t know how.  
“Gee?” He blurted out.  
“Mmm?” Was his response, a hummed probe for continuation.  
“Are you, uh…what are you doing tomorrow night?” Frank stumbled over his words, but internally he was proud he had gotten them out at all.  
Gerard didn’t seem to get the gravity of the question however, his view not turning from the TV to answer “You’re my only friend, Frank. You know I’m not doing jack shit.”   
Frank grumbled lowly and uncomfortably. “No, I mean…” He scrunched up his face and Gerard seemed to realize Frank’s distress.  
“Frank?” He turned to him and furrowed his brow in concern, silently pressing him to go on.  
Frank’s face had to be flushed red. “Can I take you out tomorrow night?” He blurted out in quick succession, so quickly Gerard almost didn’t catch it.  
Gerard seemed to stare at him, expressionless for the longest ten seconds of Frank’s life. “Are you asking me out, Frank?”   
Frank shrugged; face turning an impossibly deeper shade of red. “Yes.”  
Gerard grinned. “Yeah, Frank. I’d like that.” He replied with a nod of his head.  
Frank smiled and sighed contentedly, turning his attention back to the TV. “Then it’s a date.”  
Gerard smiled wider. “Yes it is.”


	33. I'm Away Forever, But I'm Feeling Better

To say that Frank was nervous would be a _gross_ understatement. Frank was fucking petrified.   
The face that he had a date wasn’t the cause of his anxieties. He had been on dates before– with girls.   
Frank had been ‘questioning’ his sexuality for some time now, the better part of the last decade actually. He always pushed it into the recesses of his mind, however.   
Coming from a traditional Italian family, being gay was taboo still. Sure, Frank was sure that if he _was_ gay that the majority of his family would still love him and accept him eventually; but it would change things for certain. There would be pieces of his family whose opinion of him would change, and Frank just wasn’t ready for that. So, he pretended that part of him didn’t exist.  
Until Gerard.  
Gerard was so…fucking… _Gerard_ that it was impossible to ignore.  
It’s not like Frank hadn’t kissed a few people of the same sex before. Of course he had, he was only human. He would be at a party, drunk, high or just feeling risky and he’d take a chance.  
And it was nice, but that was always where Frank left it.   
A quick, dirty make out session before Frank would take off; lock himself in his room, alone, with only his hand and thoughts of the guy’s strong jawbone, his scruff, and his thick hands holding Frank’s hips.  
Why that had changed now, Frank couldn’t explain to himself. God, he wanted to. He wanted to be able to understand why Gerard was so fascinating that he actually wanted to try this. He wanted to try because Gerard was just…  
He didn’t know, but, fuck; Frank was nervous.

And it was weird, getting ready for a date with a person that you’re living with. There’s no surprise in the gesture, no anxiously waiting for the doorbell to ring, no butterflies in Gerard’s stomach when Frank’s car pulled up.  
Frank was already here, upstairs, getting ready in Mikey’s room.   
Gerard had been right about Mikey’s room being calming though, Frank actually felt better once he got in there and took a moment to sit on the bed – just breathe.   
It made him laugh, actually. Mikey would have laughed and said ‘I told you so’.

At dusk, Frank opened the door and sauntered down the stairs to find Gerard sitting on the couch, his back turned away from Frank, something on the TV that Frank was sure he wasn’t paying attention to.  
He looked nice, Frank thought. He wasn’t wearing anything special, just a standard pair of black jeans and a sweater. His hair looked slightly less disheveled than usual though, and it was pushed away from his face, tucked neatly behind his ears.  
Frank really liked when Gerard would push his hair away from his face. He liked to be able to see his eyes, his expressions, his smiles.  
“I can feel you behind me.” Gerard commented with a laugh, Frank may have been staring.  
He cleared his throat and walked around to face Gerard. “Sorry.” He said with a blush adorning his face. “You look nice.”  
Gerard smiled. “So do you.”   
“Ready?” Frank questioned.  
Gerard nodded, turning the TV off and standing to match Frank. “Ready.”


	34. Let Us Burn

It was weird at first, somewhat awkward, as Frank and Gerard took their seats inside a dimly lit restaurant on the East side of the City.  
Something about the way Frank was cautious in his movements now, whereas normally he was so careless and languid, made Gerard’s stomach coil with nervousness.  
He pulled the chair out for Gerard with a smile, making the older man painfully aware that this wasn’t a normal dinner between friends.  
It was fairly silent for a few minutes, both reviewing the menus in front of them before Gerard started to laugh, his fingertips pinching the bridge of his nose.  
“What?” Frank questioned, looking up from his menu.   
“I can’t even read the menu.” Gerard giggled, shutting it and discarding it off to the side of the table.  
Frank shut his as well, smiling at the older man. “Why not?”  
“Dunno. Can’t concentrate.” Gerard shrugged. “This is weird, do you feel weird?”   
Frank regarded him quizzically. “I mean…do you not want to be here?”  
“Oh, God, of course I do!” Gerard responded instantly, sliding his hand across the table, palm facing up. “I’m just nervous.”  
Frank tentatively placed his own hand on top of Gerard’s, fingers intertwining loosely. “Me too.” 

Frank wound up ordering for Gerard, a true date in his eyes, and Gerard had been pleasantly surprised at how much he enjoyed himself, and the meal.  
It was nice to be able to hand over the night to Frank, to allow him to really make this a proper date.   
It got easier as the night went on, both falling into normal conversation in between bites that almost made them forget the pressures that went along with a first date.  
As they exited the restaurant, however, their fingers intertwined made it obvious that this was no normal evening.  
It was even stranger; however, when instead of Frank taking Gerard home and giving him a kiss on the doorstep, he drove to their shared residence, trying to think of some way to end the date properly.  
“Wanna come inside?” Gerard joked, earning an elbow to his forearm.   
“You know.” Frank began. “I think that, even if I didn’t live here, I would want to come inside.”  
“Hey, I’m not that easy.” Gerard chuckled.  
Frank rolled his eyes “That’s not what I meant!”   
Gerard hunched his shoulders before exiting the car. “We’ll see” He muttered to Frank as he unlocked the door.  
Once they got inside the tension started to ease a bit, something about being in the comfort of their own home was satiating.   
“Can I walk you to the basement door?” Frank asked with a smirk.  
“Shut up.” Was Gerard’s response as he pulled him by the hand towards the stairs.   
In the basement, Frank stood awkwardly by the door as Gerard turned on the light and shrugged off his jacket.  
“Frankie.” Gerard called; making Frank’s heard skip at least three beats in his chest.   
He didn’t respond, but walked closer to Gerard in the center of the room, his arms snaking gently around the taller man’s waist.  
“Dinner was really nice, Frank, thank you.” Gerard said quietly as his arms found their place on Frank’s hips.   
Frank nodded lightly, but his eyes stayed trained on Gerard’s for a moment.   
“Can…can I kiss you?” Frank questioned, his fingers rubbing circles in the soft fabric of Gerard’s shirt.  
Gerard laughed. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”   
Frank didn’t respond, just cut off Gerard’s giggling with his lips, tentatively at first, gentle and unsure. Not like the first time they kissed.   
This time was different, more intentional and careful as Gerard led Frank backwards towards the bed, guiding his hips into a sitting position, Gerard climbed gingerly onto his lap, their lips never detaching.  
For what started out so innocent and hesitant was starting to turn passionate quickly, Gerard straddling Frank’s lap, Frank’s hands beginning to roam the skin under his shirt.  
It was so hard for Frank to pull away. God, he didn’t want to, but he had to.  
“Gerard wait, I don’t…I’ve never….” He said through labored breaths, his eyes shining with nerves.   
Gerard seemed to understand, answering before Frank needed to clarify. “It’s ok, Frank. I just want to kiss you for a while. Nothing more until you’re ready.”  
Frank nodded and nuzzled back into Gerard’s touch, his teeth scraping at the stubble on Gerard’s chin making him whine.  
“You’re making it difficult for me, though, aren’t you?” Gerard teased, panting.  
Frank hummed as he continued to suck on the soft skin of Gerard’s neck, pulling him forwards until they were both lying flat on the bed, hands discovering the curves of each other’s body.  
They stayed like that for a while, all soft fingertips and sweet kisses, until they were both too exhausted to keep going.   
Eventually they got under the covers, both still fully clothed, Gerard’s head resting on Frank’s chest as they fell asleep.


	35. Seeds Take Root as They May

Waking up curled into Frank’s side the next morning actually wasn’t incredibly weird. Something about it felt natural, normal.  
Frank’s skin was warm, flawlessly tanned Italian skin painted with black ink that Gerard ached to touch even still half asleep.  
As he stretched, his bones creaking and joints cracking, Frank stirred into consciousness with a sleepy smile on his face, turning towards Gerard to sigh into his shoulder.  
“G’morning.” He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.  
“Morning.” Gerard replied with a yawn.   
Frank sat up and began straightening the covers out on his lap. “It’s our last day. What do you want to do?”  
Gerard hummed, thinking. “I kind of maybe want to do nothing?” Gerard said, words flaring at the end as if it were a question.  
Frank shrugged. “Whatever you want, it’s your last day before you have to go back to work.”   
Gerard nodded. “Can we just, like…stay in bed all day?” Gerard questioned. He took a quick look towards the small basement window. It was windy, clouded and raining outside; the perfect day to sleep away.  
“Sure.” Frank smiled and opened his arms wide for Gerard to climb into. He did so, lying back down on Frank’s chest, his heartbeat thrumming steadily in his ribcage.  
“Mmm. This is nice.” Frank commented a few moments later, his thumb fingering in Gerard’s black locks. 

But it didn’t last forever; in fact it felt like it barely had started when Gerard’s alarm went off the next morning.   
It was a miracle that he had remembered to set it at all, frankly. There was nothing worse than the feeling of having to peel himself from Frank’s arms and crawl out of bed with only work to look forward to.  
It was always so damn cold in the mornings, made worse by the fact that his bedroom was the basement.   
Frank was still sleeping peacefully, now clutching Gerard’s pillow as a replacement for his body. Gerard took a moment to allow himself to stare, gawk if you will, at the man lying in his bed.  
Everything that had happened in the past month had led up to this strange level comfortability he had with Frank. He would have never imagined feeling close to someone in this way, and he certainly never imagined it happening the way it did.  
But it had, and Gerard supposed he had Mikey to thank for that too.   
Mikey seemed to always be right, he always had. Ever since they were kids, though Mikey was younger, he was the one in control.  
He had this overwhelming sense of knowing what was supposed to happen before it ever occurred, and it always played safety in the goals of Gerard’s mind.  
He wondered how he would ever get along without Mikey’s infinite wisdom, but maybe Gerard’s own internal wisdom wasn’t so flawed after all – he had managed so far.  
Frank seemed to be content, as he lay there, endearing little sighs leaving his lips as he dreamt.   
One thing Mikey always told him was to trust his gut, but Gerard only ever trusted Mikey. Little did he know that Mikey didn’t have all the answers, he just had learned to trust his own instincts long before Gerard ever considered himself to be a reliable source.  
As he dressed himself, eyes roaming over Franks’ sleeping form every few minutes, almost to check and make sure he was still there, Gerard found himself less afraid of the day now.  
He had Frank to come home to, he knew, and that was enough for the moment.  
He slipped out the door quietly, leaving a note that said ‘Will be home by 5:30.Wish me luck. xoxoG.’  
It was hard to leave the house, to drive into rush hour traffic and enter the mindset again of a working stiff, but it all seemed just a bit better knowing that he would be back home with Frank soon.


	36. Square Before the Devil

Waking up in bed alone was expected, but still felt uncomfortable when Frank woke up. The sheets were cold on Gerard’s side and the blankets pulled back.  
Frank rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his focus landing on the note taped to the back of the bedroom door.   
‘Will be home by 5:30.Wish me luck. xoxoG.’  
And that left Frank’s day completely open; alone. He contemplated going back to the dorms to gather the rest of his things, most importantly his books.  
He had missed three weeks’ worth of classes, one more each and it would be an automatic failure for the semester. He pondered this from his spot on the bed before deciding to say ‘screw the books’ and head to class anyway.  
Frank had less than an hour to get to calculus, and the thought of two hours of math, followed by a three hour psychology class, not to mention three weeks of make-up work, was not making his body move faster.  
He barely had enough time to make himself a cup of coffee before he was in his car, rushing through the petering end of rush hour traffic; he would be late. He hoped Gerard would be proud of him for even going at all.   
“Wow. What is the occasion that you decided to grace us with your presence?”  
“Fuck off, James.” Frank groaned in a whisper as he sat at a desk towards the back as the professor began to start the lecture. James didn’t take the queue, however, and proceeded to move seats next to Frank.   
“I’m just fucking with you.” He exhaled. “I just don’t know what’s going on.”  
Frank shrugged, unsure of what to say; how to explain himself. James deserved an answer, and not a half assed one, which was precisely the reason he hadn’t given him any at all yet. “Time to get back to class, I guess.”  
James nodded. “Uh, yeah.” He replied sardonically. “You would have failed had you missed another. You’re like eight minutes late, though.”  
“Yeah thanks, big ben.” Frank shook his head seriously while James rolled his eyes. 

Gerard was fairing a bit better, at least. Awkwardly, though. Definitely awkwardly.  
The entire morning he just…wasn’t really sure what to do with himself. He situated himself at his desk, hands propped neatly on the keyboard, awaiting a task or work, but none came.  
Around noon Brian came over and had Gerard sign some forms, something about family leave of absence and that Gerard was returning to work. He didn’t really pay attention, just smiled wide, happy to be back at work.  
Finally, nearing 2PM Brian had time to come over and get Gerard set back up; new passwords into the system, familiarizing him with the work and setting him off. Gerard was somewhat excited to dive into his work, even if there was only a few hours left in the day.  
He almost didn’t realize when it was time to go, 5:03PM already. When he got home, he expected to be greeted by the usually energetic Frank, but his car wasn’t in the driveway.  
None of the lights were on inside, meaning that Frank had left before it started to get dark. There was no note, either, no indication of when he would be back.  
Gerard didn’t know why he expected him to be there, sure he lived there, but he had his own life. That didn’t stop him from being disappointed, however.  
Gerard thought about calling him, at least Frank _had_ a cellphone, but he decided against it, thinking maybe he needed some time alone.

And that is what Frank figured he needed as well, as he sat unaccompanied at the foot of the bar, sipping a vodka on the rocks, assuming it would be the strongest thing his palate could tolerate.  
It was a new experience for Frank, being able to drink alone and _legally_. He seemed to understand why these places always seemed depressing; because the people here always _were depressed._  
Maybe now that he was 21 getting drunk wasn’t exciting anymore, just something to help numb his mind.  
That fact in and of itself was disheartening enough, he thought.  
With each drink, Frank’s anxieties melted away, and before long last it was almost 10PM. He looked at the time on his phone in confusion. He had come here right after history at 4:30, right? It was history…wasn’t it?  
He couldn’t remember.  
He did remember the professor loudly acknowledging their displeasure with Frank’s absences before handing him a two inch stack of missed work.  
He also remembered brushing off James again, who seemed to have stopped fighting the issue.  
At the end of class he didn’t even say goodbye, just sighed when Frank showed no interest in making conversation and left.   
Frank guessed that he had finally given up on him.  
So many weeks of hiding his frustration and sadness for the sake of ‘staying strong’ had taken its toll on Frank’s mental health, and he was feeling it with the mounting pressure of returning to school.   
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if Gerard was worried about him; back at home wondering where he was.  
But he hadn’t called, so he figured not.   
James? Check.  
Gerard? Fucking check.  
Both added to the list of people Frank had likely disappointed in the last 24 hours.   
“Hey buddy, I gotta cut you off man. You’ve been here for hours.” The bartender interrupted Frank’s internal despair.  
Frank nodded lowly and slid the man the cash in his pocket; he assumed it was enough when he waved to Frank signaling he was good. He left, keys in hand, before realizing that driving would probably be a _really_ bad idea.  
Frank was self-loathing at the moment, but he wasn’t stupid.   
Well, fuck.  
He was too drunk to make out exactly which direction home was, but he took a wild guess and made a left turn at Market Street.  
About three blocks into his stumbling walk, Frank realized that he definitely wasn’t going towards Gerard’s house. Honestly, he didn’t recognize the area he was in at all.  
But, he kept walking forward, assuming he would stumble upon somewhere familiar soon enough.  
Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t.  
Really, he was too drunk to care.


	37. Die Young and Save Yourself

Frank was making his way down an alley, the streetlamp flickering above him highlighting the cobblestone road in front of him.  
It was still somewhat early in the night, before the truly scary people came out of the woodwork; something around 11:00 on a Monday night. The streets were bare, the only sound Franks footsteps echoing against the brick buildings surrounding him.  
He thought he felt buzzing in his pocket, but his movements were too uncoordinated to reach for it and investigate. Somewhere in his alcohol clouded mind he realized it to be his phone. He cared, he really did, but his body protested against the unnecessary movement needed to answer it.  
He flung his arms uncaringly at his sides, his legs beginning to ache in protest. He pressed himself up against the cool brick wall making his spine shiver in response. His stomach began to lurch violently, throwing his abdomen into tight, clenched objection.   
He fell forward, onto his hands and knees and began to wretch onto the cement road, vile smelling vomit laced with alcohol landing on the pavement in front of him.   
He groaned and spit off to the side, shifting his body away from the pile of bile and leaning against a dumpster.  
Exactly where he belonged, he thought, with the garbage; a strange kind of poetic justice, ending up plastered, immobile and surrounded by trash.  
He closed his eyes, letting the smell of vomit and garbage fill his nose, the backlight of flickering streetlamps behind his closed lids, and the feeling of defeat in his soul.

 _”What the fuck, Frank!_ Gerard pulled at his hair, his face red and frustrated. He was pacing around the living room, house phone in his hand. He stilled for a moment, scratching his forehead before bolting for the door.  
He drove as quickly as possible towards the college, trying to make sense of the street signs leading him towards the dorms.   
He must have knocked on four or five doors before spotting a particularly blank one at the end of the hallway that spurred his memory as Frank and James.  
He tried to knock quietly, but it came out as a nervous pounding.   
A weary James answered the door, confusion evident on his face.   
“Yeah?” He questioned, rubbing at his eyes.  
“Uh. Is Frank here?” Gerard asked nervously, peeking around James shoulder into the room.  
“No. I haven’t seen him since psychology around 4.” He replied with a tired sigh.   
Gerard shook his head. “So, he was in class?” He pinched the bridge of the nose when James only nodded. “Ok, good to know. Thanks!” Gerard said over his shoulder as he sped back down the hallway.  
James stood in the doorway for a few moments, watching Gerard go before he shut it slowly, and the pit of his chest in his stomach.  
 _”Where the fuck could he be?”_ Gerard grumbled to himself angrily, slamming the car door shut and speeding out of the parking lot.   
He drove carefully, looking for any signs of Frank or his car. It felt like he drove for hours before he finally spotted Frank’s car in the parking lot of a bar about two miles from the dorms.  
Upon checking the time before getting out of the car, Gerard realized he had only been driving for about fifteen minutes; He took a moment to cool himself down before he screamed at Frank for his carelessness and said something he couldn’t take back.  
He walked into the bar livid, ready to shout at Frank for scaring him, making him worry all night and spend hours tracking him down.  
His heart sank when he realized that Frank was nowhere to be found, though, only a few lone souls sitting at the bar despairingly nursing their drinks.  
“Can I help you?” Someone questioned in Gerard’s’ direction, the bartender he assumed, but his eyes remained darting throughout the establishment, searching for any sight of Frank.  
“I’m looking for someone. Short, black hair, lots of tattoos. Little shit.” He grumbled.  
“Left about two hours ago, walked towards 2nd street. He was pretty hammered; I had to cut him off.” The man shrugged and pointed in the direction Frank followed. Gerard rushed out the door, it slamming haphazardly behind him.  
He drove slowly, close to the shoulder and eyes trained on the sidewalk for a drunken Frank. After about ten minutes, Gerard resigned to parking on the shoulder of the city street and walking.  
He yelled Frank’s name over and over again, receiving no response but the quiet buzzing of highway traffic behind him.   
He entered a dark alleyway sometime nearing 1AM, tired and frustrated, tears brimming at his eyes for fear of what may have happened. He likely would have called the police long ago had he had a cell phone on him.  
It was a few seconds later that Gerard stepped in something particularly foul, a squishing sound under his boot that made him want to gag. _”Oh fuck me._ ” He groaned to himself, looking down to inspect the pile of vomit he had stepped in.  
His eyes trained however on the black shadow next to him, his heart beating practically out of his chest as he knelt down to get a closer look. He scooted forward, a sense of uneasy hope teeming at his throat.  
“Frank?” Gerard asked quietly, but received no response from the figure. He couldn’t make out any of the persons features, only the curve of their body up against the dumpster.  
He reached out and touched his face, soft skin under his fingertips followed by a mop of thick, messy hair and barely there stubble on his chin.  
It was so undeniably Frank that as soon as Gerard realized it was him, he let out a whimper of relief.  
He pulled Frank into his arms, coddling him close to his chest and rubbing at his sweaty, matted hair.  
“Jesus Christ, I was so fucking worried Frank.” Gerard whispered. Frank made a groaning sound as Gerard moved his limp body, but otherwise stayed mostly unconscious.   
Gerard heaved him over his shoulders, Frank’s head lolling from side to side as Gerard dragged him back to the car.   
Frank started to come to as Gerard drove them home, a mixture of relief, anger and terrifying worry in every whine and sob Gerard released.  
“ ‘rard?” Frank questioned with a slur.   
Gerard answered with a grunt, an inhuman response to an obvious question. Frank mumbled something Gerard couldn’t make out in between the sound of the tires on highway.  
“M’sorry.” Frank tried again, his face pressing uncomfortably against the passenger window. “M’so sorry.”   
Gerard sighed, too tired to protest with a still half-unconscious Frank. “I know.”


	38. He's Waiting There for You

Gerard was having a difficult time staying alert and focused. His eyes kept crossing and rolling backwards, the humming reverberation of the vending machine down the hall lulling him to into a doze.  
He had nodded off at his desk twice already, and each time he would force his eyes open and dart around nervously a few too-short moments later hoping that no one saw his slip up.   
He was still light on things to do, so luckily he hadn’t been missing much during his short naps, but each time he pulled himself out of the stupor he felt irresponsible.  
 _’Fuck’_ he mumbled to himself as he rubbed at his eyes. He had finally gotten to sleep sometime around 2:30AM after dragging Frank in from the car and getting him into bed. Gerard had made himself as comfortable as possible on the couch for fear that Frank would vomit on him in his sleep.  
When he got up for work, Frank was still sleeping soundly. He would feel like absolute death when he woke up, however, so Gerard let him sleep.  
There was no denying it, though, Gerard was fuming.

The only saving grace that Frank could think of when he did finally get up was that he didn’t have any classes on Tuesdays.  
This was a good thing because he felt like shit, and with rolling out of bed at 2PM, he likely would have missed them all already.  
He patted the bed absentmindedly, not really expecting Gerard to be there, but he hoping nonetheless. He had really fucked up this time.   
There wasn’t much to do in the house, not without Gerard, and the last thing Frank felt like doing was anything that required mental stability, so that counted out homework.  
He took a few moments to gather himself before considering getting out of bed. He absolutely reeked of alcohol and desperation; a shower was unarguable.  
Leisurely, Frank pried himself from the warm bed, his head and limbs pounding in protest. He had never felt quite _so_ hungover before.  
He thought about calling Gerard first, to set things straight – to apologize, but Frank never was good with words. And besides, he doubted that Gerard would appreciate Frank calling his office number. After all, he only left it on the fridge for emergencies.  
Frank’s guilt _wasn’t_ an emergency.  
As he peeled off his clothes, setting the shower to a cool burn, and stepping in – Frank thought to himself. He thought about Gerard and how his shy smile melted Frank’s heart, and how his laugh made Frank go slightly stupid.  
He thought about Mikey, and how smug he would be about the whole situation - _Gerard and Frank_. But, aside from saying ‘I told you so’ Frank knew Mikey would be happy.  
Would have been, had Frank not royally fucked everything up.

By the time Gerard left the office, all he could think about was sleep. Also food. But, mostly sleep.  
He had spent his lunchtime in his car, neglecting food for want of a short nap.   
Unfortunately, cold leather seats weren’t the most comfortable and Gerard ended up going back to work not only still tired, but with a crick in his neck.  
The drive home seemed to take twice as long, Gerard hitting every red light on the way and getting behind every dallying old lady in existence.  
He sighed gratefully, finally pulling into the driveway, only momentarily considering Frank’s existence when he took notice of his car in the driveway.  
He groaned outwardly, not because he wasn’t happy to see Frank, but because he just didn’t have the energy to be angry anymore.  
Gerard went to unlock the door, it swinging open in the process as he was surprised to see it already cracked open. The lights were on in the living room, a low hum of music coming from somewhere in the house.  
“Frank?” Gerard called foolishly, as if it would be anyone else.  
“In the kitchen!” He called back through the rooms.   
Gerard set his bag down by the door, his coat on the back of the couch before heading into the kitchen.  
“What are you doing?” Gerard questioned from the doorway. Frank had his back to him, muscles shifting underneath his t-shirt as his arms moved in front of him.  
Frank waved him off, one hand in the air, his back still turned. “Sit, sit.” He said as he shoved something into his mouth.  
Gerard sat at the table, plates and silverware laid out cleanly in front of him. Two wine glasses and a bottle in the middle of the table, and now that he thought about it, the smell of something cooking filling the air made his stomach grumble.  
He couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips at that; Frank here, cooking. Domesticity, he thought.   
Frank turned then, a pot full of something in his hands, and brought it over to the table. “It’s nothing special. Just some pasta.” He said with a shrug.  
Gerard nodded gratefully. “Can I help?”  
“No, no.” Frank shook his head. “I’m just about done.”  
Frank sat down a few moments later, the last dish on the table, full to the brim with a sweet smelling pasta sauce.  
“You didn’t have to do this, Frank.” Gerard started before Frank could open his mouth. “I’m not _that_ mad.”  
Frank shook his head instantly, his hands stilling in their movements in opening the bottle of wine. “Yes, I did.” He said as the bottle opened with an audible pop. He poured two glasses, only a fourth of the way full, making a point of putting the bottle down before he could get carried away.  
“Listen, Gerard…I’m so fucking sorry.” Frank declared with a cringe. He looked miserable, Gerard thought. Likely from the hangover, but with a hint of something else in his face. Sorrow, maybe. “I was an idiot, and you were left to pick up the pieces. I was wrong and I’m so sorry.”   
Gerard remained silent for a moment, drinking in Frank’s words as well as a few sips of red wine.   
“I was so worried about you.” He snapped angrily, surprising even himself. “I thought something had happened. I thought you had gotten hurt! Do you have any idea how many hospitals I called looking for you?”  
Frank shrunk in on himself looking even more dejected than before, his hand coming to rest on his temple.  
“I fucking…I just lost Mikey, Frank…I can’t lose you.” Gerard admitted. “Promise it will never happen again…”  
“I swear. It will never, ever happen again.” Frank said instantly, his forehead scrunched with worry and guilt. “Here.” He said next, reaching to the seat next to him and handing an orange bag to Gerard. “I picked this up for you. It’s the least I could do.”  
Gerard opened it hesitantly to reveal a new cell phone, already activated and programmed with Frank’s number.   
“I was selfish, Gerard, and I’m sorry.”  
Gerard grinned appreciatively at Frank. “I just wish you had come to me first. You don’t have to drown your sorrows in alcohol until you’re too drunk to function, Frank. I want to be there for you. I care about you.”   
Frank nodded in understanding, a hopeful smile pulling at his face. “I know that now.”  
“Good.” Gerard grinned, setting the phone next to him. “Now what did you make me? I’m fucking starving.”


End file.
